You make me grab a ticket
A hundred thousand light-years
The moon under your outfit
It must be the THC effect
Or from the smoke that my mouth passes to you
Babe, you're something else
When I usually land on your body
You make me grab a ticket
A hundred thousand light-years
The moon under your outfit
I'd live stuck to your mouth
Or as close as possible to your G-spot
And that way, my hands don't mess up
When they touch you, babe
You say that I make you float
Though I'm not the first to arrive
I know that it feels as if I were
I know you more inside than outside
And there's no need to light up anymore
Because your body already does me so good
I doubted if I could be faithful
You make me grab a ticket
A hundred thousand light-years
The moon under your outfit