It's there sometimes,
A little tickle in the back of my thoughts,
Sometimes I feel it in a bar,
when I see someone a little like her.
Sometimes it's when shes talkin to me,
and the only thing I see is her lips moving,
sometimes it's when I watch her, always when I watch her.
When we're working out.
I love making her angry or saying somethin outrageous,
just to see her reaction.
Just to have her attention wholey on me.
I love being in this bar,
It's like the ones back in Boston.
Dark and smokey.
Full of vamps, I see one with blond hair.
Figures, same as hers.
I came here to take the edge off.
Now I'm dusting something that will only make me worse.
Maybe I'll play with this one a little tonight.
I'd love to tell B how I feel.
But she's too goody two-shoes.
She'd freak, and I couldn't bare that.
After all. My feeling, my tickle is something black.
And my blond thing is scared of the dark.
The Vamps smiling at me, sucks when they're like this.
Willing to play, making wanna enjoy them.
Show time.
The End
