by Arcassin Burnham

Has it been occurring to you,
Is it referring to you that I'm digging the
Accent,
The sofas very cheap and we made it out the storm,
won't prepare for the accidents,
Girl the beautys divine,
And the waves are crashing into my lungs,
Fire in your eyes as the rain turns to smoke,
As it evaporates into the sun,
My sweet lovin's on the run,
Happiness is a warm gun,
With you.