There he stands, on the far corner of this room
Leaning against that wooden table
In a black tuxedo, with one hand in his pocket
And another holding his drink.
Mysterious as he seems, his eyes never fail to mesmerize you.
His words so few, his feelings always true.
So deep in his thoughts - you could get lost for hours.
But as you sit here next to me and stare,
Your life wouldn't be so bare..
Because in his presence you feel something so rare.
And if you're lucky you'll catch a smile here and there,
A smile that is almost as deadly as the devil's glare.