He keeps looking.
Like I'm something for the taking.
The way he's staring at me dancing
Gets me thinking, I should stop.

No concrete action, no kind of evidence,
Just a rise of the hairs,
A sort of indescribable sense,
Warning bad intentions are by,
Stay quiet and put and shy.

Maybe if I cover more,
Maybe if I show a little less,
Maybe if I look away,
And keep ignoring all the rest,

Maybe it's what I have to do.