If I could know that you are the way you are,
I would never kiss you.
If I felt less than this,
I wouldn't miss you.

To the eyes of this bed, we are lying.
Lips can't say a word.
The desire for passion.
Soul that died, now can not feel.

Fire of  lust is slowly wrapping our naked bodies,
And then the coldness of your love murders my vacant heart.

The temptation sure made me a fool,
That I even believed in you.