I don't ever want to hate you, So don't show me your bed, The only roads are cul-de-sacs, The only ends are dead. Temptation greets you like your naughty mate, One that made you steal and set things on fire, But one you haven't seen of late. And I said that kind of talk, Only adds intrigue, To the cauldron of thought, It's already exceeding, Temptation, the very thing that held her back
