Moving closer, stepping back, reaching out and taking chances,
Circling ‘round to test the rapids flowing by,
Underneath the harvest moon, rhyme and reason still in tune,
Our little dance, of sweet romance, with heads held high;
Snorting laughter, breathing sorrow, blowing pink and purple kisses,
Pulling harder on the fire in your eyes,
Living up to being higher, in the spirit of desire,
Through the silence underneath the bridge of sighs;
Stroking genius, brushing danger, touching innocence with proven,
Squeezing water from the third stone from the sun,
Falling deeper into you, the years go by apart from two,
And yet we’re sharing timeless beauty on the run;
Painting promise, sketching skittish, drawing unforeseen conclusions,
Sculpting candor on a cloudy afternoon,
Raising glasses red with wine, toasting temperance on the vine,
Canvas cookies feed the oils of soft maroon;
Moving closer, stepping back, reaching out and taking chances,
Circling ‘round to test the rapids flowing by,
Underneath the harvest moon, rhyme and reason still in tune,
Our little dance, of sweet romance, with heads held high;
Our little dance, of sweet romance, with heads held high.
