Fanatize, tearing eyes, that's my agony for me.
Wishing, hoping, praying, for you, my goal.
Time, Fly, so sumlime your beauty is.
Music, jazz, saxaphone, your instrument of piece.
Long, exotic, extented, is that how deep you go?
Wait, time, pause, is God happy with that?
Should me, you, co-exist without lust?
Hell. Hell. No, can't, never, go there,
Yes, yes, exist we must,
Cuz us, we're responsible for Love.
Love, a mystical garden of intimacy,
Only can get out of it with a damp of hate.
Why hate? If we love to receive, why must we hate to give?
Give me, reasons, why people are like that?
Is the world too damn mean to care?
You see why I need you?
You see the reason I cry everytime Beethoven's Symphony #5 happens?
You, me, make love,
Not the physical but the symbolical,
The spiritual side of the mental mind of passion, rage, fury of heat intense inside my heart.
Please, listen to the soul psychedelic of my dance.
The music sways like the Civil Rights movement.
It bounces to the heartbeat,
Gives a solo everytime a thrust is made.
Gives a climax everytime she moans.
This is the suite everlasting of joy and love.
Would you like to come?