The happiest thought I could think of is
Your bright red hair
Your pale white skin against mine,
Days in summer heat
This feels right.
After work you can't beat coming home
To a flashing smile,
Love affair, for one week only
Let my broken working class skin
Dig at your aristocratic body
Echo across the valley
Ruining miss Bush's afternoon tea with the guests.
Laugh and smile, all the while we're having fun.
The God's are jealous !
We will die and this memory is always ours !
I will always have this.
This is mine and It will always make me happy.
When I think of you I can only say hallelujah.