She's dreamy to the max
I tried to make a joke
You didn't seem to listen
The café was full of smoke
And I was fiercely bitten
The wind outside could bite
But love for you was savage
Was my conversation trite
Or weighed down with luggage?
She's got a lot of problems
She's got a lot of problems
She makes me quiver
The soft suede of her boots
Admit you are neurotic
Your Maxfield Parrish suits
Is style like a narcotic
But if I can't be debonair
I'll just be gaunt and gothic
Can we make a pair?
Yes, that would be exotic
I love you massively
I love you passively
Tip toe to my kisses
Give me my best wishes