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What you do to me.

What you do to me.

1 min
210


There's a melancholy in your mails,

I've read them a hundred times,

All in your voice.


There's a novel I can't read,

Because you're in my head,

And it's you I need.


Girl, this fantasy keeps me awake,

You've come home, I'm cooking for you,

As Ella and Louis sing their heartache.


We look at each other the way we do,

You sway with the saxophone solo,

We drink wine and slow dance till two.


I open my eyes, I am in the train,

I close my eyes, I am by your car,

Your hand's in mine, your eyes full of pain.


I will it and we are home again,

I serenade you with my guitar,

With a storm of emotions chained within.


The upper berth guy asks which station?

I don't know,

I am not even in the train.


I'm gazing into your eyes,

Sitting by a moonlit pond,

We, shivering with our first kiss.


And then I must open my eyes,

'Cause I can't live in a dream forever.

Or can I?

 


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