You’re My Heaven in Silk
I just want to touch you
You’re My Heaven in Silk
I make many attempts to modernize my love, dear Asha, spend countless hours in my workshop tinkering with ways to really impress you.
Here’s one example: I greet you at the door and then restrain you and then please you with my sudden growth.
I know I drive a van and that isn’t sexy, but I do have the habit of getting in bed with you anyway and anything offensive I might say you simply ignore.
Do you know how much I appreciate you? That’s my sales pitch — my adoration and devotion.
One day I hope to own a yard but right now I can’t afford the expenditure.
I’ll have to just settle for the clothes you wear as decoration in bed.
I don’t care that the shelf fell down the last time we met, but the poor neighbors had to plug their ears I bet.
If I could only determine a way to keep myself in your heart so you won’t drop me like a weight when you decide to move on.
Let me disclose to you one thing: I like to patrol your neighborhood and watch for other boys trying to eat your cake.
I’m a veteran but a pleasant one, in an age well after disco died.
