How it felt about when she smiled Her roses were red wine Teeth were an iceberg in a cold sea I didn't know she knew me more than by name I walked head up to her in a confident laze She always willed to lay a hand in a steamy time
Whenever she called me by my pet name I would light up a grin How I couldn't help her spell How much I belied of having a way out The more she drew close, the more I sank in How she made seduction a white collar trade The lavish eyes, the lazy talk, the pure feminine mien
She pat on my shoulder and turned to catch a glance Asked what made her hands a soft pleasure Whispered that she was schooled in pottery and making dough I couldn't stop but ask about the flawless curves She pushed out her lips and said I used to spin a ring at nine
I asked her out for a movie She said tragedies make her cry One day I went to look down through my office windowpane My sight met hers taking down a secret gang With a fierce nine millimeter gun I was left speechless in awe
We needed to rethink our revolution On her mission in Damascus a plane crashed I still cried a pail.
This was inspired by a mysterious beautiful lady who used to help me out at work whenever I was clueless