Something from the fire,
something just to know,
if I'm a liar, lord take my throat,

There's something just about her,
and how she chooses to know,
and how she holds a fire without letting it go,

Dresses made of sunlight and proses of rose,
feelings like a won fight and dances of our nose,
To live is to meet her, to die is to let go,

and when I think about her, I swear I truly know,
how love becomes a fire and not just thoughts we hold,
and I'm impervious to liars because with her is where I go.