fireside music

Arabella’s got a 70’s head
But she’s a modern lover
It’s an exploration, she’s made of outer space
And her lips are like the galaxy’s edge
And her kiss the colour of a constellation falling into place

My days end best when this sunset gets itself
Behind that little lady sitting on the passenger side
It’s much less picturesque without her catching the light
The horizon tries but it’s just not as kind on the eyes