the sacred soft and the holy hard

it's a woman's nature to be cunningly crafty
fishing answers outta you guys is like pullin taffy
long and slow and yes, sometimes sticky sweet
perhaps we get off on our natural desire to compete

the nature of the game tween a woman and a man
as tough as trying to set sail on dry land
all we  need is the touch of your hand
and our skirts fly up in a heavenly handstand

why do you make us so confused and crazy?
when we know your love for us is innately lazy
you can't give us what we really need to be livin
so why do we want so bad what you are sorta givin'?

it's the nature of this lifetime game
to pursue the very thing that makes us insane
the brush of a whiskered rugged face
moving in close on our polished painted grace

is it the scared soft warming the holy hard
that keeps us playing, reaching for another card
knowing full well in the end, you'll  win it all
us, on the floor on our knees in a cat like crawl

gambling with hearts and messin with minds
it's all part of the seductive bump and grind
that keeps us playin and  swingin' our love guns
your pistols fully loaded, our lasers on stun

been thinking bout layin down men for a while
folding my cards and ending the beguile
I've heard tales of the grace and beauty of lady luck
perhaps my future is full of flannel shirts and pick up trucks

one never knows what a gambler will find
when she heals her heart and closes her mind
to the rigors and rules of society
after all...it's all about souls and sacred synergy

pushing back from the table of gamblers
off to the dirt roads and the fellow ramblers
I will meet on my wild woman wanderings
out where my life intersects with my ponderings