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the gentle taste of orange a garden of fruit and flowers is what i embrace in ocean blue eyes, in each one's an island i'm stranded within your love and as i fall deeper than ever and as we kiss, we're each other's guide into the unknown where men do not return, where men do not forget the sweetest suicide, as if we don't exist but live the presence of angels, the inscense of indochine the quietness of movements, the slowness of africa a point of know return, no way out of here nothing compares to you anything goes and as i breathe deeper than ever i'm coming home, i'm coming home to the unknown where men do not return. . . |
