(None)

When I get to troubles with language,
the fate of the whole world is what's at stake --
I look at the liberties I take, and look past those words to what's your own --
and bring those words of your back home, because words are all I know.

When this dialectic gets boring, I think about the words of the Mode E --
if I could choose the mode I'd like to be, I'd choose to be with you.
Ooh-I know, it's really not a mode per se, ooh-but so?
I'd choose it anyway, and find a new mode with every name you name.

So give me a name for your hair down and coffee in your Federal Hill cafe --
just like you named the weekend of dolce days.
And name my nervousness, ooh-won't you? And all my inadequacies -- name them too.
And just like this tape machine -- how I snaked you!
And how the Farinas say, "I sawel you" And your favorite dinner of glowing tofu.
And how I'm at least 4 names ooh-to you. And how you touch all the lives you move through.
And how language proves that it's YOU who's got a sexy mouth.
You got a sexy mouth (x3)
Name it too. (x4)