Wouldn’t you like to make love to everyone? I would go outside and egg you on. Wouldn’t you like to glisten in the sun? I would run inside and tell everyone.
You and me, we’ve not forgotten what’s important, what’s important. And the mind begins to wonder at the thought of getting closer. What I know I’m sure. Pushing me right out of the door. You caught me at just the wrong time. You’re pushing me that little bit closer.
You and me we’ve not forgotten what’s important. And the mouth begins to water at the thought of getting closer.
“Welcome to our new house won’t you please come in? Grab yourself a drink”. I did and I felt sick. Like a sticky caramel. I was looking in the mirror.
When I started holding hands with my new girlfriend I’d fall in and out of love and I felt sick. It’s a simple kind of hell. I was talking to a new girl.
“Welcome to our new house, won’t you please come in? Grab yourself a drink”. I would but I can’t think. It’s a simple kind of hell. I was trying to be a real man.
Always seem to blow you off the wall. I would dream of you in that see through white dress, sliding off, down to black stilettos, and falling to the ground. I walk up to you, standing close behind.
I was acting out an episode of my life. You were Hollywood you were coming over to mine. Passion never comes to bother me in this mood. Love will never find its way to me in this room.
“Make it alright”.
“Baby I might”
You say I am such a drama queen and it’s true. You like Love Supreme but I prefer Kind Of Blue. Listening to both and they’re keeping us up all night. Falling into you and I’m begging you make it alright.
“Make it alright”
“Baby I might”
I can’t believe you turned into something I’d lose.
I would get you on your own. Yes I did. I would slip into your arms. Falling stars they still go over my head but I still wouldn’t know. But you look just lovely tonight.
Wednesday I have to go home. I’ll catch a train on my own. Days still flow past my door. Over the paving stones I used to walk. Through the dark streets of the night, over the hill to those sweet dancing girls.
Wednesday I have to go home. I’ll catch a train on my own. Days still crash through my door. Over the stairs and the cracks in the floor to pull me out – backwards born- out to the sea to those sweet dancing girls.