| And all I am is a man
|
| I want the world in my hands
|
| I hate the beach
|
| But I stand in California with my toes in the sand
|
| Is this even my sweater
|
| Lets have an adventure
|
| Head in the clouds but my gravity centered
|
| Touch my neck and I’ll touch yours
|
| You in those little high waisted shorts
|
| Oh, she knows what I think about
|
| And what I think about
|
| One love, two mouths
|
| One love, one house
|
| No shirts, no blouse
|
| Just us, you find out
|
| Nothing I really wanna tell you about no
|
| 'Cause it’s too cold whoa
|
| For you here
|
| And now, so let me hold whoa
|
| Both your hands in the holes of my sweater
|
| And if I may just take your breath away
|
| I don’t mind if there’s not much to say
|
| Sometimes the silence guides your mind
|
| So move to a place so far away
|
| The goosebumps start to race
|
| The minute that my left hand meets your waist
|
| And then I watch your face
|
| Put my finger on your tongue 'cause you love to taste yeah
|
| These hearts adore, everyone the other beat heart is for
|
| Inside this place is warm
|
| Outside is ice cold
|
| Coming down
|
| One love, two mouths
|
| One love, one house
|
| No shirts, no blouse
|
| Just us, you find out
|
| Nothing I really wanna tell you about, no no no
|
| 'Cause it’s too cold whoa
|
| For you here
|
| And now, so let me hold whoa
|
| Both your hands in the holes of my sweater
|
| 'Cause it’s too cold whoa
|
| For you here
|
| And now, so let me hold whoa
|
| Both your hands in the holes of my sweater
|
| Whoa, whoa, whoa
|
| Whoa, whoa whoa
|
| Whoa, whoa whoa
|
| Whoa, whoa
|
| Whoa, whoa whoa
|
| Whoa, whoa
|
| 'Cause it’s too cold whoa
|
| For you here
|
| And now, so let me hold whoa
|
| Both your hands in the holes of my sweater
|
| It’s too cold whoa
|
| For you here
|
| And now, so let me hold whoa
|
| Both your hands in the holes of my sweater
|
| It’s too cold, it’s too cold
|
| The hands of my sweater |