Print

Head on my chest I drifted through her talking Wilt mid-caress I swear, I felt four hours passing She whispers under breath Some inaudible thing Fold the left lock over lock in the center You were too polite to tell me to be gentler Pulling on it tight I was lost in the pleasure A mussel in the tides of your weather Afternoon In the dunes with my honey We fought the whole time Our egos getting bloody Snarling Wild Hair Rounds My fingers Pull Slow Part From our anger Fold the left lock over lock in the center You were too polite to tell me to be gentler Pulling on it tight I was lost in the pleasure A mussel in the tides of your weather From Letras Mania