Emerald Greed

Sunset bleeding through the blinds, painting scenes
You whisper in my ear: "Emerald green or emerald greed?" — somewhere in between
It ain't hunger for the paper chase
It's the glow in your iris when I touch your face
You check my pulse like the dash of the Porsche
Black on black, engine purring like a late night source
I don't need the globe spinning in my palm
Just the taste of your name keeping my blood warm

My lovely rose, with the thorns made of satin
We play love games where the rules keep collapsing
On cracked cement courts, it's tennis therapy
You swing for the fence, and the rest is a blur to me
And I'm hypnotized by those crimson lips
And the way your tennis skirt lifts when you swing for the hit
Nothing underneath but the softest of secrets
My lovely rose, you're the sweetest of weakness

Last night's rain drying on the leather seats
You said "Why so serious?" biting something sweet
I want the second glass, I want another
Of you leaning back in that passenger glow
Telling me secrets that only slow jams know
We ain't keeping score, let the rackets collect dust
Therapy's a drive in the Porsche with a trust

My lovely rose, with the thorns made of satin
We play love games where the rules keep collapsing
On cracked cement courts, it's tennis therapy
You swing for the fence, and the rest is a blur to me
And I'm hypnotized by those crimson lips
And the way your tennis skirt lifts when you swing for the hit
Nothing underneath but the softest of secrets
My lovely rose, you're the sweetest of weakness