Love Amour

Love is dynamite, 'right? ' It's hot, it's-passionate It explodes into being Like flowing volcanic larva It's got sizzling, sultry breezes. It has tropical, stormy nights. Molten fiery moments That can't be separated, Do you know what I mean? But keep it visually out of sight, Keep it impractically altogether clean. Love is a speedway race. A basketball game With no second or third bases You're either in or you're out. There is no let's hold back. Take it easy, approach As one or the other Wants always-to-go full throttle Without a pit stop or a safety car in use And the one that doesn't Is sure to be struggling with doubts, And will be expressing a million Counter conflicting accounts, how to proceed And talking about past abuse Love amour, love amour, love amour, I'm not ready at all. Love is Grand Prix; it's got 51 laps It's in the hands of the gods Love is fraught with risk and danger. Let it start with a simple kiss And say goodbye to being Just good friends or worse still An admiring distant stranger.