Chicago - You come to my senses

^EI picture you on the beach Lying in the sand^B Out of reach of my t^Erembling hands ^AI picture you in a^B car Blonde hair in the wi^End ^AI picture you in my arm^Bs And the touch ^Eof your skin The smile^A on your face The way^B that you taste

You come to my s^Eenses Every time I close my ^Aeyes I have no def^Benses You come to my ^Esenses I can't stop this ache i^Anside I have no de^Bfenses You come to my s^Eenses