Muse

There's brownstone rap and broadcloth soul, Velcro pop and punk black coal, But I prefer a sweeter choice, The music of my lover's voice. There's hardwood country's knotty feel, Cast iron gospel, reggae steel, But I prefer to revel in The texture of my lover's skin. I'm craving something more Than just symbolic nomenclature. Let's make our own symphonic love In harmony with nature. There's smooth, cool jazz and rough-edged blues, The rock that scuffed Tchaikovsky's shoes, But I prefer a finer art, The rhythm of my lover's heart.