I don't need my words to rhyme
when I have the rhythm of your love
I don't need to be masked by the shell of my clothes
now that your warmth has painted me caramel
I don't need the rough beats on the radio
when the melody of your voice is chorally divine
I don't need the paint strokes of the Picasso's in the gallery
when the strokes of your lips against mine transcend longer...further
I don't need the romantic fields of England
when your chest depicts the vastness of the Mediterranean
I don't need laws, governments, or religion
now that your love is the unspoken promise of Heaven
Mar 13, 2011
Mar 13, 2011 at 7:04 PM UTC
I don't need my words to rhyme
when I have the rhythm of your love
I don't need to be masked by the shell of my clothes
now that your warmth has painted me caramel
I don't need the rough beats on the radio
when the melody of your voice is chorally divine
I don't need the paint strokes of the Picasso's in the gallery
when the strokes of your lips against mine transcend longer...further
I don't need the romantic fields of England
when your chest depicts the vastness of the Mediterranean
I don't need laws, governments, or religion
now that your love is the unspoken promise of Heaven
