Cupid the Troubadour
Place your finger on my arm
Trace the outline of your guitar
Then take it up on to my chest
And trace my heart, you know it best
You think you don't but yes, you do
It's very beat belongs to you
And someday you may feel its peel
The pulse it has for you is real
Copyright © Andres Luis Bigote | Year Posted 2023
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