Children at your feet…
Oh, wait! You haven’t got feet. Or hands. Or much of a head.
But, damaged though you may be, I loved you enough to bring you
home in my truck. And, not just because you’re Italian, either.
Although I admit it…that is part of your charm.
I can see from the light radiating from what’s left of your head and from
your heart and that place where your hands used to be that you love me
So, moving on, musically, from the Beatles to the Turtles…
The only one for me is you, and you for me
So happy together !