Your 45 rpm singles on the sideboard
one kiss on the couch, all thought is fried
a single or return trip, first hesitation
I ponder who of us will choose a landslide.

Eleven bells split in half and desire is hauled away
I want to plant kisses inside that mouth
close that delicious plug with me
I die to feel that illicit wetness.

On the side of late reactions, pages are torn
you make little sense, so where are you then?
just say where and I'll ride the day through sun
light my cigar, ah but make it in time.