Don't wake up, won't wake up, can't wake up. No, don't wake me up. Don't wake up, won't wake up, can't wake up. No, don't wake me up. . It's the early morn, lights flick on.
She pops into the bathroom. Just after a shower and. She plays with my makeup and creams. "Heap's trying to look like me". . And goes through the motions posing this way and that.
You and me, between sheets. It just doesn't get better than this. The many windswept yellow stickies of my mind. Or the molten emotional front line. I couldn't care less, I'm transfixed in this absolute bliss.