| The Prize Raising your hand behind my head, A kiss from your lips is all I desire. Silently floating towards the bed, Every kiss sends me higher. Your lips taste like the sweetest fruit, And your hair smells the same. Your eyes the prize; your kiss the loot... A thief with the riches and the fame. Of all the things to live for This is worth a torturous death. If I don't live to love much more, I'll kiss you with my dying breath. I could live forever with your lips to mine, For you've stolen the key to my heart. I'll never complain; I'll never pine, If you promise we'll never part. |