I wish I could roll you up in a joint
Lick that dry paper with the wet pad of my tongue
and smoke you all day long
Your words get me high
They are so abrasive masculine and rough
I want more
Not that I'm going to tell you
Being one of the many lovestruck
Is too much for my ego
I am more of a far away observer
Immersed but distant
You're a guilty pleasure and a secret thrill
Not that you'll ever know
Because I'd rather burn far from you
Than turn to ashes in front of your
eyes
You see pretty you may be
But you're still just one of the guys