Pas Encore (Pomplamoose)

Oh you make this song flow You make it run like my fingers down your spine. You make it drool like the decadent wine Qui coule de tes levres. Oh we met not long ago But our steps intertwined And our souls spoke their minds As the intimate poems unwind Et coulent de tes levres. So let's not let a stereotype Define our love Oh don't let me wipe these tears from my eyes Don't let me despise you yet. Pas encore pas encore S'il te plaît, pas encore. Oh you make this song flow Like the tea you designed Trickling slowly down my throat Like the billows of smoke qui coulent de tes levres. So let's not let a stereotype Define our love Oh don't let me wipe these tears from my eyes Don't let me despise you yet. Pas encore pas encore S'il te plaît, pas encore. No mercì, pas encore.