My
lips grow dry awaiting your pleasure,
My
hands they itch to pull you close,
to
raise you up high, my light, my treasure
And
to the tavern propose a toast
And
to the world proclaim my lust
Reunited
consummate joy
And
drain you I will, as drain you I must
Though
my heart and soul you destroy
Another
round of my love, I'm buying
to
banish pain, bow to old ghosts.
Another
round of my love, I'm dying
To
spirits and generous hosts.
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