| Tell your crooked teeth not to brace themselves
|
| For better or worse I will embrace this hell
|
| 'Cause talking’s great, but I won’t force you to
|
| Yeah talking’s great, but talking’s torture too
|
| So tell your big grey eyes not to stare at me
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| 'Cause when they lock with mine they take care of me
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| And you look great in knee-high leather boots
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| But you look great in grandma’s sweater too, so you can choose
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| (But its between the two)
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| You speak with your eyes
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| And stutter when you blink
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| I know you’re not mine
|
| But I reserve the right to think
|
| Everything you say to me is a signal
|
| Everything you’ve done to me says you’re single
|
| So tell your big grey eyes not to stare at me
|
| 'Cause when they lock with mine I’ll need therapy
|
| I’m glad your overcoat is leopard print
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| These animal instincts have been setting in, now I can think
|
| (of a couple things we can do)
|
| You speak with your eyes
|
| And stutter when you blink
|
| I know it’s not mine
|
| But I reserve the right to think
|
| Everything you say to me is a signal
|
| Everything you’ve done to me says you’re single |
| So tell your crooked teeth not to brace themselves
|
| For better or worse, I will embrace this hell
|
| 'Cause talking’s great but I won’t force you to
|
| Yeah talking’s great but talking’s torture too |