I never want the thing itself,
but only what I think it can give me--
what I think I can get.
Wow
oh my Heart cries
for this desolate one,
who sees no one or no thing
but for "getting",
to ravish
and plunder
oh those delicate babies,
their skin so soft,
but a target
oh how very much compassion
this one calls for
walk softly
with this one
talk softly
with this one
this one in mortal danger
is out of his mind
with fear
he needs
your love
he needs
your peace
but only what I think it can give me--
what I think I can get.
Wow
oh my Heart cries
for this desolate one,
who sees no one or no thing
but for "getting",
to ravish
and plunder
oh those delicate babies,
their skin so soft,
but a target
oh how very much compassion
this one calls for
walk softly
with this one
talk softly
with this one
this one in mortal danger
is out of his mind
with fear
he needs
your love
he needs
your peace