Hands Feet Arms Legs
Holding Touching Pausing
And I'm looking at you
Through the looking glass, through the looking glass,
And you're the arrow to my bow
You're like
Cake to a fat kid
Jolie to a Brad Pitt
Wrap you arms around my waist
Let's go to straight to second base
And the tension is tearing me up
I don't want to spoon,
I want to fuck
Knock knock on my door
Falling falling falling for you,
And I'm dropping hints
For you to drop the hand
But your eyes do not shout from your soul
So how am I to know
if I'm to take you home