Greeted by your thighs,
lost space inside your eyes, while that feeling comes to rise.

And I know I've told you lies,
so making it up to you sooner is pretty wise, while that feeling comes to rise.

And I want you tonight as my prize, while that feeling comes to rise.
Quite a distance for a ****** drive.

Rising within me, stirring me to no good,
questioning to bite, probably should.
But you'd join the feeling if you were in the mood,
simply because my body language is quite loud and easily understood.

To be how it may,
sweat dripping of the flesh, wetter than the waters across the bay.
It's probably an overcast today.

And this feeling ain't complete,
two foreign bodies coming together to meet.
Two feelings coming into one, and then they'll repeat,
having your thighs to greet,
upon the arrival of your meal within this meat.

While that feeling comes to rise,
not being chased, and none to despise.
Like the feeling of being so close to one, failing to say your goodbyes.

Such of that feeling comes to rise.