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Bird Of Ill Omen
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Spoon
I'll make love out of you, and we will burn this sun on a blue day,
zero gravity, your presence I am weightless,
turn to this sky, your company I'm inhuman,
a love styled born to defy any doubtful tongues, expropriate, subjugate no more, I am whole,
these four eyes clash with lips to match,
we are the only ones, I'd bathe in fire because you're just that cool...
How you've quenched all the heartache,
how low we go under dim lights,
how well my arms fit to the curves of your back,
this is jet propelled, so it will excel,
we've changed the rules most would have given up,
you created love for me, turned me to a man,
made these dead eyes see, oct. sixth I'm a man,
every doubtful step, nervousness dies with time
Q. Can It be that I love?
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A. Of course you can love
Q. Then how does it feel?
A. Like you're drifting above
Q. And if that feeling is real?
A. Then I'd say you're in love
Q. Can it be that I love?
A. Of course you can love
Q. Then how does it feel? Is it real?
A. Yes, I'd say you're in love
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