Wasp Nest (The National)

You're cussing a storm in a cocktail dress your mother wore when she was young Red sun saint around your neck A wet martini in a paper cup You're a wasp nest, you're a wasp nest. Your eyes are broken bottles And I'm afraid to ask And all your wrath and cutting beauty You're poison in the pretty glass You're a wasp nest, you're a wasp nest You're all humming live wires under your killing clothes. Get over here, I wanna kiss your skinny throat You're a wasp nest, you're a wasp nest