Show me the meaning
Of making love.
Show me the feeling
In all this stuff.
I want to be yours.
I want to cry.
You will be so close.
I want to die.
And this emotion
Can’t go away.
You see promotion
And never stay.
So run to crimple,
Cause I am shy.
It’s not a symbol
Of American pie.
Just catch my future
And give a mist.
I’m not a beauty.
You aren’t a beast.
We’ll not make a tale.
We’ll make a story.
Write to my mail.
I’ll tell you: ‘Sorry’.
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