In the heat of the night you look so predatory.
Before you, life had gotten so boring.
But inside my head is a clear warning.
You've got to start on the ground if you wanna start soaring.
I know I've said it before and it's the same old story.
Being clearly unsure is clearly the sure thing.
And now my throat is too sore to even try to sing.
When you come back to me, I think of the gift that you'll bring.
Your undying love never fails to tug on my heart-string.
See, I've still got to learn the meaning of a fling.
Among a tall list of you related things.