Close your eyes and when you kiss her upturned and yielding lips, it’s all your will to not think of the other one you need over this;
over this is what you are over, over and under desire slips.
As you look at the proffered lips, wanting to know why you sufficed for this.
Her inky eyes, smouldering with lusty sexual desire. She wants to eat you alive, lusts after you with such a fire.
Burns for you…
If you leave and it all goes dire,
She’s out there alone on a wire, lighting her own funeral pyre.
How can a kiss ever turn out so wrong?
But you can’t help it, there’s another you need. Not her, not this one. She is your friend, not your lover, just a muse, somewhere to occasionally get footloose.
As she burns, how do I start to end this song?
over this is what you are over, over and under desire slips.
As you look at the proffered lips, wanting to know why you sufficed for this.
Her inky eyes, smouldering with lusty sexual desire. She wants to eat you alive, lusts after you with such a fire.
Burns for you…
If you leave and it all goes dire,
She’s out there alone on a wire, lighting her own funeral pyre.
How can a kiss ever turn out so wrong?
But you can’t help it, there’s another you need. Not her, not this one. She is your friend, not your lover, just a muse, somewhere to occasionally get footloose.
As she burns, how do I start to end this song?
