the player plays the player
i met a woman with piercing eyes...
when she looked at me it was with sexual intent
drowning tides...
--
player plays the player
--
i think it funny that someone can enter your life
strike such a cord that resonates
sound
ly
when you affirm to the universe, greater good, what have you...
that your at a point in your life that you may be ABLE to accept some form of LOVE
then, instead of throwing an easy at you, said Universe, greater good, god or what have you
throws a curly
rising above it
mAKING LOVE?
what a time it's been
dashing between the sheets
the skins
smelling fragrants knowing
of a greater good
times do tell a story
a lesson
a lesser, even
my eyes do pierce the core of you
in response lay all your cards out on the table
my table is covered with a checker board of glowing red
glowing white
light in between your sheets
it lights my eyes for a temporary hour
or two...
tell the man selling apples on the cross road
that i might be back tomorrow morning
but if i'm not
sell the produce
because they keep coming through those doors
in all shapes and forms
heart strings only pulled by a couple
of fiery foxes
and there is no wayward banter here
when she looked at me it was with sexual intent
drowning tides...
--
player plays the player
--
i think it funny that someone can enter your life
strike such a cord that resonates
sound
ly
when you affirm to the universe, greater good, what have you...
that your at a point in your life that you may be ABLE to accept some form of LOVE
then, instead of throwing an easy at you, said Universe, greater good, god or what have you
throws a curly
rising above it
mAKING LOVE?
what a time it's been
dashing between the sheets
the skins
smelling fragrants knowing
of a greater good
times do tell a story
a lesson
a lesser, even
my eyes do pierce the core of you
in response lay all your cards out on the table
my table is covered with a checker board of glowing red
glowing white
light in between your sheets
it lights my eyes for a temporary hour
or two...
tell the man selling apples on the cross road
that i might be back tomorrow morning
but if i'm not
sell the produce
because they keep coming through those doors
in all shapes and forms
heart strings only pulled by a couple
of fiery foxes
and there is no wayward banter here