You'd rather have wine than gin. And only the finest by your skin. Always running after time. Catching your fancy with rhymes. Shining on the front page again.
C'mon, c'mon, I said c'mon. . This hot night wind is mine, I know. This gust of love ain't no liar. Steamed up, blown up, stoked from below. I'm a ready to cook with fire, ooh with fire.