The sun is pouring in, . Through the window and right onto your skin. And I've never seen a portrait quite so picturesque. . And the hours slip away, . I always struggle for the right words to
mistake Whatever sets off the spark. A magic glow lights the dark. Then I'm intrigued by the sight. Of the city by night Those crowded nightclubs, those picturesque cafes. Are scenes no one forgets
You've got a sense of humor. You're a mystery. I heard a rumor. You're making history. . Photographic dialogues. Beneath your skin. Pornographic episodes. Screaming sin. . 'Til its real