Minha Seus olhos me traem fixando-me com falsa atenção Seus lábios a contraditam seguindo o seu coração Percebo que me quer beijar a cada toque de mão Se ela a sente, por que não compartilha desta emoção Sempre que a deixo banho-lhe com aflição E se calhar não à tenha por esta mesma razão.
No pensador.ai desde
Her bunches are golden butterflies Her voices are corners, her lips the coral They all see their beauty
Her bunches are golden butterflies Her voices are corners, her lips the coral They all see their beauty But they don't know their secrets and fears Her mind is pure science, her body was touched but none knows your taste If it was a song, it'd be just the best grades.
Your eyes betray me by staring at me with false attention Her lips conflict her by following her heart I understand you want to kiss me with every hand touch
Your eyes betray me by staring at me with false attention Her lips conflict her by following her heart I understand you want to kiss me with every hand touch If she feels it, why don't you share this emotion? Every time I give her a bath with distress And maybe I don't have her for that same reason.
Every time we loved each other in the morning it was like it was the first physical time, because we shared a naive of appetite In the end our smiles resented our sweaty bodies of pleasure and passion; innocence overflowed in the soft sighs of the pretty good For the night we…
Every time we loved each other in the morning it was like it was the first physical time, because we shared a naive of appetite In the end our smiles resented our sweaty bodies of pleasure and passion; innocence overflowed in the soft sighs of the pretty good For the night we locked ourselves so intensely in the polychromy of the most tasty pleasures; spiritually ejaculating the affection between two perfectly engaged lovers
Se por ventura ela adivinhasse que é o amor da minha vida Aquela que tanto vagueia em meus sonhos e me faz calcular que o amor não é um encantamento Há mesma que me faz ansiar pelas noites, para me tirar do mundo onírico da realidade
Se por ventura ela adivinhasse que é o amor da minha vida Aquela que tanto vagueia em meus sonhos e me faz calcular que o amor não é um encantamento Há mesma que me faz ansiar pelas noites, para me tirar do mundo onírico da realidade E levar-me a quimera de seus laivos mais afeminados.