I can't help that she calls me, love.
You've said yourself, she was a jealous mistress.
I'm well quit of her, and she of me,
though she still calls.

...oh but her body hides sweet pink flesh
and the salt, the salt on my tongue...

I've never regretted a night
Spent here with you, you know that, love.
There are things a mistress can't give,
And you've given them all to me.

...oh but she's wet and in her I'm slick
with me, she didn't crash, but flow...

Why doubt your own gifts?
The bread of your body,
This home made with four hands,
And the children, our love made real?

...oh but we are froth together
and moonlit dancers, fast, slow, bound...

I've never looked back and I'll always come when you call.

*...but I always look back
always come...