LET ME TASTE THE SUMMER ON YOU

Intimate acoustic folk ballad with a gently swaying 6/8 pulse, fingerpicked nylon-string guitar and soft upright bass; add sparse brushed percussion and delicate high-string responses as the chorus opens, Keep the verses close and conversational, let the pre-choruses gradually gather warmth, and give the chorus a fuller but still restrained lift, Tender, sensual, pastoral mood; natural room tone, clear vocal foreground, organic dynamics, polished but unvarnished mix

V6-WILD

[Verse 1] We hid where no one thought to look, The canes rose higher than our heads. We picked the berries born that night; Their juice had dyed your fingers red. A bead of sweat slipped down your neck, Your linen clung along your spine. You whispered something through the leaves; I leaned to hear. Your arm touched mine. [Pre-Chorus] The air hung heavy with the fruit. Our whispers faded where we stood. I took the berries with my lips— Beneath their juice, the salt of you. [Chorus] Let me taste the summer on you, Let the red stay on my lips. Let the world grow small enough To fit between your fingertips. This first touch, amazed at being, Wants no heaven but your skin. It returns to its beginning— Touch me as you did just then. [Verse 2] A bumblebee growled at the flowers; A sick leaf blistered in the heat. A beetle struggled on its back; Torn cobwebs glittered at our feet. You reached for fruit beyond my shoulder; Your linen brushed against my chest. I felt your breathing lose its rhythm. We left the ripest fruit unpicked. [Pre-Chorus] You brought another to my mouth, Then held it just beyond my reach. I turned my lips against your palm; You drew a breath instead of speech. [Chorus] Let me taste the summer on you, Let the red stay on my lips. Let the world grow small enough To fit between your fingertips. This first touch, amazed at being, Wants no heaven but your skin. It returns to its beginning— Touch me as you did just then. [Bridge] I cannot say what happened then, Or how your lips came to my brow. I took your hands; you gave them both. No fruit remained between us now. [Final Chorus] Let me taste the summer on you, Let the red stay on my lips. Let the world grow small enough To fit between your fingertips. This first touch, amazed at being, Wants no heaven but your skin. It returns to its beginning— Touch me as you did just then. [Outro] Your hands in mine. The summer still. The raspberry thicket all around.

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