One wonders why things have become so complicated
What is there natural left for love to enjoy
Is life all there is just set for prime time
Just another job that one does employ

Love used to be such an intimate thing
Now it's sold or given to the world on loan
It matters not who I would pick
For love would still sleep alone

No kiss to set my day
For flesh is not to feel
Just a bazaar thought that gets in the way
Of words the love must deal