Lucky Luke

Look at the finger… Look at the finger… Silence in the air… Low lights glowing, room in blue, Slow motion when I look at you. I don’t have to speak out loud, One small move and you’re spellbound. Simple motion, unaware, But there’s tension in the air. In the mirror we can see, Something building silently. No need for noise, just sensation, Quiet sparks of fascination. Look at the finger, look at the sign, Tracing shapes in the night’s thin line. Look at the finger, moving slow, In my rhythm, soft and low. Look at the finger pointing your way, Nothing forced, just let it sway. Look at the finger, feel the tone, In the silence we’ve both grown. Soft voice drifting like a thought, Every second tightly caught. Not about a fight to win, It’s about the pulse within. Gentle bass beneath our feet, Slow heart syncing to the beat. If you feel it, then you know, We don’t rush — we let it flow. Breathe in… Slow down… Feel the sound… Look at the finger, look at the sign, Tracing shapes in the night’s thin line. Look at the finger, moving slow, In my rhythm, soft and low. Look at the finger pointing your way, Nothing forced, just let it sway. Look at the finger, feel the tone, In the silence we’ve both grown.