The Love Machine
It reaches down as heaven sent forth
With velvet wings to earthly port,
To lovers on the verge of love’s command,
To follow through with heaven’s plan.
Love machines running on sweet perfume,
Assembled from the scent of roses bloom,
Flood the mystic skies and cast a spell
Upon the hearts of lovers fair-thee-well.
They walk with their feet up off the ground,
As love gets inside and spreads around.
It goes to the brain with its hypnotic appeal,
As reality fades away and fantasy seems real.
Oh love machine, keep your engine running.
Wait for me to gather up thy lute for strumming.
Send me down thy melodic perfumed breath,
That I may live in love until my lovely death.
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