Cascades of gentle touch, her passion blinding my eyes.
I find I lose myself, drowning from her colorful sky.
I'm aware of her grace...those careless kisses.
She's my Zen, my own, my only Shangri-La.
She's my french champagne, she's my ooh la la.
Like a gentle wind she moves, a fascination I desire.
She's a butterfly, she's a Mona Lisa smile.
Tattooed on a sacred place, she's a mystery.
Wondering if she loves me, she's a mystery.
She's a sweet confusion.
I can hold her tight.
Yet she's free to fly in and out of my life.
She's a mystery.