(Gotta) Cool Down

You got yourself a lover

You probably got one or two

If we made a little trouble

What would that prove

If we made a little fire

Let it brightly blaze

What’s that moment really worth

Ashes on our hands for days

Hotter than the shoes on satan’s feet

We gotta cool down

In the dim light I’m looking

At the diamond in your nose

In the smoky light I’m looking

At the tattooed rose

I’m thinking there’s a briar

Climbing up your spine

I’m thinking of shouting out

Forever would be fine

Hotter than the shoes…

Intoxicating fragrance

The exotic way you speak

You’re a wild sunflower growing

Midst asphalt and weeds

It’s in the ocean

Way that you breathe

Your chest rising falling

In the summer heat

Hotter than the shoes…

Maybe I got a lover

You probably have more than one or two

If we made a little fire

What good would that do

If we lit a little tinder

Singed our fingertips and tongues

What to do with cinders

From the charred bowl from which we’ve drunk

Hotter…

rec. Big Daddy Z