She

She knows — about all the evil in this world
She knows — what blackness lurks in our souls
She parts her lips and gives me a literary quip
Sharper and sweeter than any cat-o-nine tails whip
She makes me feel like a king
She is the reasoning that makes life swing
She says — come on and swing away from blue
She says — don’t yeild to it’s atmospheric hue
She’s got the power to make things turn out right
Even in the darkest hour of the very blackest night
She makes me feel like a king
She is the reasoning that makes life swing
Eyes limped and pools of passion
Lips of deepest darkest damson
Fingers probing show white skin
Like a leather disciplinary
Looking rather predatory
Like an emissary of sin
She knows — we’ve got nothing more to prove
She knows — we’re dancing in a dead mans shoes
She says let’s check out of this haunted hotel
Where all the corridors and doorways are leading straight to hell
She makes me feel like a king
She is the reasoning that makes life swing
She makes me feel like a king
She is the reasoning that makes life swing
She drags my world awake