They Call It Making Love

A little barroom, on his way home

A bed to lay on in a room upstairs

What's her name? He'll never see her again

Close the door, who knows? Who cares?

And they call it making love

Making love, making love

Throw it down, pick it up

Dress it up and call it love

Together alone like nothing's wrong

In a house called home, in a double bed

They've grown so far apart, they just fumble in the dark

Not one single word is said

And they call it making love

Making love, making love

Throw it down, pick it up

Dress it up and call it love

And they call it making love

Making love, making love

Throw it down (throw it down), pick it up (pick it up)

Dress it up and call it love

And they call it making love

Making love, making love