Martins are a special breed Set apart from rest, indeed Took me in when was in need Of a home and love extreme

If we would just ask Mother Nature for answers We might find our truths

Each moment at hand Is open invitation To the promised land

I need to get him out So he feels the treat Of an empty bladder Grass beneath his feet

There’s a certain kind of type That always does it right Elicits smiles and tears In the space between your ears The only sort of religion

Ain’t no mountain high Ain’t no valley nigh When you’re in my sights

Life after age eight Put downs and berates People don’t like you When they look like fools

I saw you lying in our bed And love, profound, danced through… The beauty of your soul, like brea… Is all I need to feel well fed

You don’t know me You don’t own me You don’t show me Paradise Only tease me

I really love how the moonlight Reveals the sparkle in your eyes And how the cold accentuates The feelings shown across your fac… How every time you take a breath

We’ve reached the acme of intimacy When I taste like you And you taste like me

We might be just a bit fucked up And, God, I hope that’s true ‘Cause that means life is nothing… The deepest passion’s hue

Treat yourself Like you wish others Would treat you

I have a grip that’s never loose That’s why I always get my goose I dig my claws into your soul Until I’m your silver and gold