She's a siren of the airwaves,
And I love it when she misbehaves.
Burning air I lust after her elegance,
Breathing in all her melodies lasciviously,
Pursuing her blindly over currents of crimson chance.
But every single time she cries my name,
I don't know if to her it's all just a game.
Weeping tears only for me,
Wailing along the air seductively,
Drowning me softly in glades with gruesome glee.
She's a siren turning me into ash,
Yet her love like tempestuous waves crash.
Sitting down next to me,
Singing down my ear promiscuously,
Killing me gently upon shores of sombre seas.