A Luxury
Brisa Roché
I was trying to be a soldier
But his rocket arms were much too good
I flew across the sea, and over boulder
To see a fire blazing without wood
I was trying to be a lady
I was trying to be very very nice
He was trying to make me crazy
Made me miss my igloo made of ice
It was the fire of Eskimo eyes on him
It was a luxury, it was too much
Nothing really ever was surprising him
His brush and bass were what he loved to touch
I was trying to be a soldier
But his rocket arms were far too good
I flew across the sea, and over boulders
To see a fire blazing without wood
I was trying to be a lady
I was trying to be very very nice
He was trying to make me crazy
Made me miss my igloo made of ice
It was the fire of Eskimo eyes on him
It was a luxury, it was too much
Nothing really ever was surprising him
His brush and bass were what he loved to touch
Lasers never sent to strike it down
Have given up your heart without a sound
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