D7 RIFF : Sweet as the smell of success, her body's warm and wet. She gets me thru this God awful loneliness, a nat'ral high butterfly. Oh, I, I need, need her. Just like a willow tree, a breath of spring you see. And, oh boy, you don't know what she do to me, she makes me sweat and forget who I am. I need, need, need, need her.