Love stroke

I feel the sun shining it's beams
it's running around my daydreams

my thoughts carry their weight
around our date 'round eight

when we were messin 'bout
and you didn't wanna back out

i'm currently running problems with my bluetooth
so please poor me a silken tinder-dry vermouth

we'll take our sour things to bed
and watch in our dreams what lies ahead

it might happen we'll drown in a love game
at the end it will all turn out the same.