French Girl, laying on the bed,
tusseld brown hair wild on her head.
The morning is soft and gold and bright.
I’m thankful she stayed, more than a night.
Sleepy blue eyes and a shy smile she gives.
In these stolen moment, I find a dream that lives.
Nowhere to be today, we’ll share the day in this room.
A lover’s nest at once a temple, a paradise and a tomb.
A kiss to seal the morning, and that in this day we are one.
A place will always belong to here in my heart, never undone.
Wine and cigarettes as the day grows bright, then turns dark.
A passion is a drug, a dream, a wild fire from a kisses spark.