I know how you like to kiss.
I'll ask you what you're thinking.
Soul burns, and I don't care.
The sheets are soaked by your tiny fish.
The craft of love,
The craft of love,
The craft of love,
The craft of love,
Oo-ooh...
Tears spring to mind when I go back in time.
All those lost bodies just seeking security.
Jittering strangers with smutty hands,
Heavy and clever and full of demands.
Well I'm similar to you:
We're familiar with what to do.
I know how you like to kiss.
I'll ask you what you're thinking.
Soul burns, and I don't care.
The sheets are soaked by your tiny fish.
The craft of love,
The craft of love,
The craft of love,
The craft of love,
Oo-ooh...
Main page of Kate Bush discography