Rumours
Hawkins Lyrics

Saints or defectors all this conjecture can't make a lover stay
Are we the true ones or just the new ones only the years can say
But the hour's whispering true and the day's conspiring, too
Toward the years that I've promised to you

Scandal-sheet makers, lowly muckrakers, cowardly comrades
Rumours and whispers, murmuring sisters, work made for idle hands
They can ring shrill sniper's alarms but they can't tear you from my arms
It's this will, this desire that disarms
All things hidden in the word "discreet"
Intuition of the night I'd meet your body in the sheets
And those three little words and those glimpses of curves
And the almost unbearable heat

Always remember June or December carries within its womb
These intimate wishes conceived between kisses to be born in your grey-lit room
Wishes lost like pebbles down wells if they're left to fend for themselves
Without faith, without passionate plan
Without breath between sheltering hands
Bracing limbs entwined in the sheets, pressing lips in the snow-covered streets
Hungry hands and a traveler's heart
Held entranced from the end to the start
'Til it feels like it's always been this
Infinite, all-encompassing kiss
Just we two in the whisperingness