A glass of tequila and ice in your hand,
The look in your eyes I can't stand anymore.
We're thrown to each other and close to the end.
I think we'd be better behind the shut door...
My soldier who's marching on clouds of flame,
You left ever since and abandoned your home.
You're giving me life and I'll give you new name.
When I'm in your hands then who cares where I'm from?
The look of tequila I taste in your eyes,
I'll shadow you right till the end of the night...
The touch of your skin's gonna melt all my ice,
Behind the shut door in your arms I'm alright...
Текила
© Copyright: Мейлинг Ирина, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117052602888
Свидетельство о публикации №117052602888
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