Sometimes I smoulder inside your smothering embrace,
slipping inside dreams of the soft, scarlet skies,
watching the world burn as I yearn for forever,
and it comes,
charmed by how politely I asked,
perched on the sweet side of my soul.

You woke me with roses as the warm sun snuck through the windows,
and I was out of control,
out of my mind with my desire,
because this is how I wanted to be loved.
I’m just a brown eyed girl with the blues, but, you,
you are technicolour torture,
and in an instant, I’m a whole new woman,
no more the wanderer,
waiting for a home.