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