Room One o' Four

The waves lick the shore

Room One o' Four

In my room on the bottom floor,
The bay is calling outside my door.
Past the gazebo, beyond the moor,
Courtly waves lick the shore.

Softly touching against the shells,
Gently curling on the pearls.

And the shells whisper...

Rub me with your wave,
Baby, please push ashore.
Make me tingle, make me soar,
Across the river and in the sky,
Send me like your arrow flies.
Hold me close, hold me more,
Send your quiver,
Through my door.
Come for me,
Don't let me down,
Your elation
ls what I crave,
The sensation,
Of your chord.
I need your sound,
I want your knock,
Please…
At my door.

So,
Please,
Baby...
Come for me,
In room one o' four.

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