You wait in line,
you stare inside.
You bite your lip,
your eyes in a handsome grip.
So tight.
You hold your head,
so still on a heavy breast.
The key in hand,
to the heart of the promise land.
You’re mine.
In a pool of roses we could swim.
Only a grand illusion
of our earthy whim,
a glimpse. [x2]
You ride the wheel,
on a sea of floating fields.
You’re drawn, quartered,
left to drift as a poor angel.
Of lust.
In a pool of roses we could swim.
Only a grand illusion
of our earthy whim,
a glimpse. [x2]
In a pool of roses we could swim.
Only a grand illusion
of our earthy whim,
a glimpse.