IN MY THIRD-DEGREE

Drowning in the feeling I love
Anything else will not be enough
Kisses and hugs, hands on the curve
Feelings I get are worth dreaming of

Out of the bloom emotions evolve
All in the room they wouldn't dissolve
Locked in a clutch like hands in a cuff
Deep in the notch as smooth as a turf

Right on the curve emerges a scuff
Just for the sake of getting enough
The hoots of an owl, the voice of a dove
Sounds of an act; all unheard-of