Turn, turn, turn.
Turn, turn, turn
The old poet sang a lullaby.
(Sensual woman whispered to me once.
Come live with me and be my lover.
I will be your salvation and you will be my rock to keep me steady.
Beautiful lady ambushed my heart and I learn her appetite for
kisses and embrace. Her charm and sovereign eyes made me blind
and with the wishes for more.
Real life lullabies rarely are perceived till too late.
Our heart and mind turn, turn and turn some more.)
Love demand payment.
The chronicle of an forever love is like a willow tree.
We must be willing to flex and bend like free branches to keep the sovereign eyes,
bright, content and near.
Love bold, love behold, love dwell where two people hold tightly when the storms
of life is at hand.