|
A little barroom, on his way home |
|
A bed to lay on in a room upstairs |
|
What's her name, he'll never see her again |
|
Close the door, who knows, who cares |
|
And they call it makin' love |
|
Makin' love, makin' love |
|
Throw it down, pick it up |
|
Dress it up and call it love |
|
Together alone like nothing's wrong |
|
In a house called home, in a double bed |
|
They've grown so far apart, they just fumble in the dark |
|
Not one single word is said |
|
And they call it makin' love |
|
Makin' love, makin' love |
|
Throw it down, pick it up |
|
Dress it up and call it love |
|
And they call it makin' love |
|
Makin' love, makin' love |
|
Throw it down, pick it up |
|
Dress it up and call it love |
|
And they call it makin' love |
|
Makin' love, makin' love |
