Deep in thought about how we moved that night,
more than just just a song; the feeling inside,
and when I think about it I take flight,
then dive into the ocean with the tide,
but your killing me slowly without thought, (great hyperbole)
is that what loves sting is supposed to feel,
I don't like it, I would rather be caught,
in a blazing fire burning off the fear, (wow--nice line)
of losing you to the next smart nice man,
that walks off the street to come sweep you up,
but it's all just a thought that troubles men,
because beauty outshines the brightest sun,
love is the weapon of choice for you,
but hey, who wouldn't pick this weapon too