The Lips That Smelled of Spring

The lips that smelled of spring are missed by me who did her wrong; even days of breeze and sunshine delight the senses and mind with the passing of a cloud, but can they make me feel fine? Before passion ran into the blood, I conquered many, I was a king; hearts fell for me like flowers from trees, gorgeous girls flocked to me like hungry bees... there was no sense of guilt in me ever, I didn't mind having fun in any kind of weather. The lips that smelled of spring are gone suddenly, the eyes that charmed me with smile have found another, I won't be holding hands in lovely fields of heather; are there more lips drunken with sensuality? Did I ever think once, I'd have been forever lonely: living an empty life that offers sadness, not joy!