Up here, I'm soaring so far above the city,
but it's too hard to come down if the Devil's here,
sitting,
unbuttoning her dress,
speaking so coyly.
I'm under duress,
how could I be this weak in the knees?
She don't speak sweet nothings,
they're quite distinguished, really.
Could you backstroke your way
out to sea?  
Because I'm not sure how much longer
I can wade in the water up here.
Jesus, I'm afraid of heights,
and her charm, I am not immune.
**** sure she's got me.