The children ring the doorbell
The door hears it
The love yous I share with big licks
The love yous I share with lickety sticks
The voulez vous lists of the bon often bonfire
The volute often pollute the years of ulterior motives
Break your back, heart needs
We can be champions of our lives, if we wrote our own stories
The years go by as love the look in your eyes
The days go as some ****** takes the pull from your woolen tassels