Won't take you into my heart,
won't take you into my bed,
until you’ve gotten inside
my prissy imaginative head,
although we ladies want to give love away,
that intrigue is for the insider only.
No, won't undress my soul,
nor make bare my dessert,
or unbutton my shear white blouse,
to looters, appetizers, or merely samplers,
disregarding- the real- authentic woman,
whose truest range of colors are hidden,
for inspection by the insider only.
A woman - has - got some pride, right.
A woman wants to bring her man
into a safe place, to a warm alluring hearth,
create a cool blue, earthy rustic, loving mood,
a sureness, a steady course, a spacious whelm,
a bed and hearth for his heart,
a sizzling, spirited space for his mind and body,
but of course, that is, for the insider only.
Wouldn’t the man who finds such pleasant place,
want to lay his wandering lusts to rest? No, probably, not.