In loving someone,
I cannot tell,
The thought of lust,
A continous bell,
Kissing and touching,
Is this really love?
Could we live without it?
Is it something we're above?
Do we need the touch of another,
The caress of his lips,
Those warm arms around us,
When the cold winter nips?
Could we deny pleasure,
Or is that all we are?
And if we went slower,
Would we really go far?
Would we hold on forever,
And never let go?
Or aren't you here forever?
These questions I must know.
For if you're here for love,
I'll love you till I die,
But if your here for only lust,
Im sorry, goodbye.