Of love

I am mourning
Kisses in the morning
There, moaning
Here, groaning
Is it pain?
Is it pleasure?
Will it ever get better?

I am sick
Of you

And the way I feen
That face, my dream
An incessant need
To feed
On your love
High as a dove
In flight

I am sick
Of me

I'm letting go
Goodbye
Don't cry
Goodnight
Don't die
Go on without me
pretty baby,
You'll be fine
You'll be fine
You'll be fine
You'll be fine
You'll be fine