My shortcomings I know caused her grief
Still she loves me. This I can't believe!
Responding not with anger but a prayer
Heaven's just Southwest of Cobble Hill
True, I am the son of an Angel
Maternally, not one woman compares
Nettie, no need to cry
Let me wipe those tear drops from your eyes
Around the dyre, a circle of thirteen
Thoughout these woods, ecstatic screams
I look deeply into your eyes
I smell your hair, caress your thighs
Now we'll make love by fire light
A blaze so high it lights the night
Long fingernails dug in my skin
Yourself so wet invites me in
