Испанская Страсть

The air is thick, the humidity rise. I see the fire in your Spanish eyes. Guitar is weeping a melody, bringing You closer to me. No need for words, languages, we Let your body speak. Spanish heat burning the floor, Leaving me begging for more. Rhythm of the hips, sway and slide, Nowhere to hide. Passion is a color and it's red spinning around In my head. Your perfume is a tropical breeze dropping me down To my knees. Fingerprints on a glass of wine, Tonight you are definitely mine. The night is young, but we are old souls Losing all of our control. Dance with me. Slow. Muy lento. Muy lento.