You talk of her long blonde hair,
Those gorgeous curls that you let run through your fingers,
You talk of her soft topaz eyes,
Those windows to the soul you let pierce your heart,
You talk of her long slim legs,
Wrapped around you, caging you in,
You talk of the shivers she sends down your spine,
The way her lipsticks the colour of red wine
The way she's mine, all mine

Except all the other guys in our year think that too.