Heard a new cut that reminded me of an old Motown tune You know the kind-- not all moon, June and spoon, but the kind that makes you just say, Baby. It reminded me of when love was young, when he just had me sprung, and all I could say was, Baby. When my heart skippin a beat wasn't medical, but sweet. All I could think was, Baby. Love was giddy, and naive, So sweaty I could barely believe, but he could, when I moaned, Baby. S-l-o-w grinding to that slow jam, no intention of a wham bam. What I needed to say was, Baby. When each caress felt so good it hurt, I just had to blurt, out, Baby, play that song again.