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