It's Friday night and I could pretend that I'm going to some party where
The boys are too drunk and
The girls have lost themselves in between the bathroom mirror and the bathroom floor.

Maybe the music is a bit too loud but the smoke outside should cover it up.

You might be leaning against the side of a couch or
Up against a wall with someone else-
A girl, maybe, with too long eyelashes
And hair that reeks of perfume
(I know you hate it).

I would probably walk in and change the music, do a little jig that makes people laugh but I won't remember it in the morning.

You could come over and pull me out into the biting chill of the backyard's night and tell me about the things you saw in the bathroom upstairs.

I would grab your face and kiss it all over and you'd let me because you'd be doing the same thing.

Step one, step two, step three
And it led me home.

And that was last night and I'm craving for your skin again.
Goodnight.