His hands they were a paint brush My body was a blank canvas Each time he touched me he painted a story I fell in love will all the words he never said, that were splashed in colour along my skin J. Saunders
His hands they were a paint brush My body was a blank canvas Each time he touched me he painted a story I fell in love will all the words he never said, that were splashed in colour along my skin J. Saunders