'Cause when we kiss our stars align.
Tell me this one random night and I just might
fall a bit hard for you
for this moment for the heart for rushing endorphins
coursing freely through this shell of a person.
In what moment did I fall for you? Was it Saturday night, at the bbq? You in your big boy shirt and me in my overly short Tina Turner dress. Was it when you teased me non stop where I was forced to fight cleverly back with witty sentences. There were also some things I could not fight back against. Yes, you teased me mercilessly. Did I fall for you when you had to include your friend in this little ode to me, saying, "You are the coolest girl we have met in a long time." at the bar, drunkenly, with eyes glazed over, arm around your friend. Why not own up to it and say it was you all along who thought it. I mean, your friend was nice but he and I didn't hit it off like you and I did. Was it Monday, when I suggested we all go out Tuesday and we did. We all did and something was there that wasn't before. But you mentioned, later, how you thought I was beautiful the moment you saw me. You knew it well when you told me that you knew I wasn't all that attracted to you when I first saw you. I agreed, what could I do? I smiled shyly, chastised or caught or who knows. I like you now, isn't it enough? Is it ever?
"You are beautiful outside, but what's inside of you makes the outside even more beautiful", dear sweet nothings that I could eat a million of and never be full, satiated. Whisper them again and I'll try to burn them into my memory as they vanish from my mind seconds later.
You're not my type! I don't think. Though you're not too tall which is something I like in men (a couple of inches taller than me), kind of sensitive, and quick witted and self deprecating. God, I tend to lean towards guys that need mending. Why am I so intent on fixing a man? Being his very own Mother Teresa. I blame this all on my Catholic guilt induced upringing. It seems all my exes were defficient or damaged or malformed in one way or another. Is this what psychology is all about? Cataloguing every single person with some kind of mental problem (there's a movie or something about this somewhere).
You are way too into yourself. You're vain and conceited and I love douchebags, maybe. I love the guys that drive me literally crazy. Too smart, too fast, too vain and proud. I love them all. Bring me your smart, intelligent douchebags who drive a million girls like me crazy.
Tell me this one random night and I just might
fall a bit hard for you
for this moment for the heart for rushing endorphins
coursing freely through this shell of a person.
In what moment did I fall for you? Was it Saturday night, at the bbq? You in your big boy shirt and me in my overly short Tina Turner dress. Was it when you teased me non stop where I was forced to fight cleverly back with witty sentences. There were also some things I could not fight back against. Yes, you teased me mercilessly. Did I fall for you when you had to include your friend in this little ode to me, saying, "You are the coolest girl we have met in a long time." at the bar, drunkenly, with eyes glazed over, arm around your friend. Why not own up to it and say it was you all along who thought it. I mean, your friend was nice but he and I didn't hit it off like you and I did. Was it Monday, when I suggested we all go out Tuesday and we did. We all did and something was there that wasn't before. But you mentioned, later, how you thought I was beautiful the moment you saw me. You knew it well when you told me that you knew I wasn't all that attracted to you when I first saw you. I agreed, what could I do? I smiled shyly, chastised or caught or who knows. I like you now, isn't it enough? Is it ever?
"You are beautiful outside, but what's inside of you makes the outside even more beautiful", dear sweet nothings that I could eat a million of and never be full, satiated. Whisper them again and I'll try to burn them into my memory as they vanish from my mind seconds later.
You're not my type! I don't think. Though you're not too tall which is something I like in men (a couple of inches taller than me), kind of sensitive, and quick witted and self deprecating. God, I tend to lean towards guys that need mending. Why am I so intent on fixing a man? Being his very own Mother Teresa. I blame this all on my Catholic guilt induced upringing. It seems all my exes were defficient or damaged or malformed in one way or another. Is this what psychology is all about? Cataloguing every single person with some kind of mental problem (there's a movie or something about this somewhere).
You are way too into yourself. You're vain and conceited and I love douchebags, maybe. I love the guys that drive me literally crazy. Too smart, too fast, too vain and proud. I love them all. Bring me your smart, intelligent douchebags who drive a million girls like me crazy.
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