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(Another pseudo-lovesong) There was no music in the air but it seems she didn’t care, she was all over me. We could’ve done it then and there. There was no music in the air. Her lips were red. Her skin was fair. She was all over me. She touched my knees and tossed her hair. There was no music in the air. By now she’d thrown off most her gear. She was all over me. She’d more to give than I could bear. There was no music in the air. Don't you know that I'm a queer? At last she's over me. |