The Golden Floor
Tell me that you want to dance
I want to feel your pulse on mine
Just treat me like a stolen glance
To yourself
A dark shape on a golden floor
A sleeping planet
with a molten core
From above
we'd cut a slow eight shape
And much more
I'm a peasant
in your princess arms
Penniless with only charm
As we're leveled by the low,
hot lights
And disarmed
I'm not afraid
of anything even time
It'll eke away at everything
but we'll be fine
I'm folded in the bread you made
You're cold until my body bathes
You in the heat I kept aside
All these days
I'm not afraid
of anything even time
It'll eke away at everything
but we'll be fine
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