Magic Words the Libertine Called Passion

The libertine flails his torches Burning staffs in his hands aglow Golden sparks from the kindle beseech you To dance on flames that he throws For he is a man they call Passion No soul has escaped what he's sowed Good bye to innocence Only embers are left where he's roamed Good bye to innocence We all dance on the coals he calls love. He is the thief we call Ardor He spins plumes of turquoise and gold Challengers fall, all are smitten By warm sultry nights and moon glow Behind his mask love is yearning To break free of seductions steel glove Good bye to innocence His restraints bind us coarsely entombed Good bye to innocence We will dance on the ruins he calls love .