The sun on my carmel skin
The wind in my arburn hair
This is not the end
So don't say farewell
Your lips on mine
My hand in yours
we make sweet love
On your hardwood floor
From the day we met
You knew i was yours
So until the end of days
I'll walk through that door
So we can make sweet love
On this hardwood floor.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem