(Intro)
(The music is deeper, bass-heavy, with a breathy vocal pad underneath.)
(Spoken Word - Deep, whispery voice, right in your ear):
"Mmm... yeah.
Morning light looks good on your skin.
I was thinking... we aren't quite finished yet, are we?"
(Soft, echoing female exhale: "Haaah...")
(Verse 1)
Sunlight tracing lines upon your back, it’s a quarter to ten
Last night left a hunger deep inside, now we’re starting again
I watch you move into the kitchen, that knowing look in your eye
You grab the heavy iron skillet, let the heat begin to rise
The batter’s thick and creamy, baby, the texture is just right
We’re stirring up a different kind of craving that we started last night
(Chorus)
(Vocals are breathy and close, harmonies are tight and lush)
We’re flipping pancakes, darling, but this ain't about the food
It’s the rhythm of your wrist action that gets me in the mood
Wait until the heat rises to the surface, feel the tension spin
Flip it over, slow and easy, let that deep sizzle begin
Golden brown perfection, yeah, you know just what to do
I crave the way you handle breakfast, almost as much as handling you
(Verse 2)
You want ‘em stacked up high, a glistening tower on the plate
We’re taking our sweet, slow time, girl, savoring the wait
Watch that butter melting, sliding down the warm, smooth side
Taste the sweetness on your tongue, there’s nowhere left to hide
It’s getting humid in here, steam fogging up the window pane
Forget the plates, let's clear the counter and do it all again
(Bridge)
(Music drops low, focusing on the bass and a single guitar lick)
Pour that amber syrup slow, let it coat every single inch
You know I’ve got a craving here that needs more than just a pinch
From the kitchen island to the table, maybe carry you back to bed
The sensual way you turn that spatula is messing with my head
(Guitar Solo)
(A slow, burning, passionate electric guitar solo. Less bluesy, more atmospheric and soaring.)
(Chorus)
(Vocals are more intense now, a little strained with passion)
We’re flipping pancakes, darling, but this ain't about the food
It’s the rhythm of your wrist action that gets me in the mood
Wait until the heat rises to the surface, feel the tension spin
Flip it over, slow and easy, let that deep sizzle begin
Golden brown perfection, yeah, you know just what to do
I crave the way you handle breakfast, almost as much as handling you
(Outro)
(The groove gets slower and heavier until it fades)
Yeah...
(Whispered close to mic): Flip it... slow.
Turn it over.
Serve it to me hot.
Best morning I ever had.
(Deep inhale and exhale)
Mmm-hmm... don't stop.
