Ok ok ok hear me out - I never thought to try French until you liked my song and I listened to yours... and while this is an OBVIOUS play on your work - I hope you like it cause yours inspired me! Checkout HeyMow's WORK - French is so sexy! ----------- C’est la passion qui brûle, feel the heat ignite, Words like silk but sharp as a knife. Through the smoke of the world, I see her sway, A rhythm so raw it could set souls ablaze. Lust in the air, every step a spark, Dancing with shadows, a flame in the dark. No chains, no bounds, just the freedom to feel, When passion’s the weapon, the blade is steel. C’est la passion qui brûle, whisper sweet and slow, A fire so deep it consumes the glow. She moves like a hymn, a prayer unspoken, Her eyes write verses, the spell’s unbroken. The room spins wild, hearts collide, French tongue laced with a dangerous pride. No gods to pray to, no rules to bind, Just a fever of souls lost in the grind. "C’est la passion qui brûle dans la nuit," ("It’s the passion that burns in the night,") "Un désir qui danse, un rêve infini." ("A desire that dances, an infinite dream.") Her voice a kiss, her touch divine, Through the chaos we blur the line. C’est la passion qui brûle, it’s the price we pay, For chasing the rush, for owning the day. When silence falls, her name’s the sound, A melody fierce, unbound, profound. She’s the rebellion, a rebel’s art, A muse who’s a weapon, a lover’s spark. The past dissolves, the future bends, In her arms, where all time ends. C’est la passion qui brûle, her shadow remains, A fire eternal, untamed by the chains. No walls can hold her, no stars confine, For the passion that burns is forever mine.
