A rouge tide washes over her peach cheeks
Here, passion is never more
She is the leech that cures my disease
She is the saran that we breathe
She is the saran that I bleed
To move, (to stand again)
Her satin sheets were sliding by the bedside
Where she (I know she) waits for me
She is the leech that cures my disease
She is the saran that we breathe
She is the saran that I bleed
She is the leech that cures my disease
She is the saran that we breathe
She is the saran that I bleed -