You're a song
written by the hands of
God. Don't get me wrong, 'cause
this might sound to you a bit odd.
But you own the
place, where all my thoughts go
hiding.
Right under your clothes is
where I find them.
Underneath your clothes
there's an end less story.
There's the man I
chose, there's my territory and
all the things I deserve, for
being such a good girl, honey.