Nausea (Live) by Carlos Truly

I don't have a word for this taste
I don't have a word for this taste

I can feel it coming underneath my skin
A confusion I can taste, or a body I can touch
No I wish I could see through that windowpane
But the sun won't let me see
Let me see, let me see, let me see
I wish I could see him

I sit in the nausea
Sick with the spirit, sick with the spirit
Over and over
Nausea, sick with the spirit, sick with the spirit
Over and over
Nausea, I can feel it from my head to my toes
And it turns me on

Now the light won't penetrate that painted glass
The light won't penetrate that painted glass
Now I know he sits across that painted glass, painted glass
How I wish, how I wish,
I wish I could see him

What?
Nausea, Nausea
Nausea, Nausea. Why?
Nausea, gives me Nausea
Nausea, gives me Nausea
If I had to settle on a word for you,
Nausea, nausea
If I had to settle on a word for you,
Sick with the spirit

Nausea, I can feel it every time I undress
Nausea, morbid body that I'll never possess
Nausea, I can hear its call in your tenderness
And it turns me on
yeah...it does

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