Friday is your prom night
And I'm not worried
Or afraid
Because my *** might implode
When I see you in your dress
(Although, that is a concern)

But I'm afraid because
Despite your claim that he's just a friend
I know how he'll think
Because I'd be thinking the exact same thing

I'm afraid of
How close he'll hold you on the dance floor
The way he'll put his arms around your waist

I'm afraid of
If he'll introduce you to his friends as “his girl”
What he'll whisper in your ear to make you giggle

I'm afraid of
What he'll do when the music stops
Where he'll try and take you when dancing gets boring

I'm afraid
You'll go with him

I'm afraid
That you'll spend less of your prom night on the dance floor
And more in bed
With him.