She's not so cute - just unforgettable. Merely a star visible in a cloudy sky, flashing bright. Of course you want her - she's the only source of light. What a shame if she turns out to be a flame to burn you. (Actually, that would amuse me GREATLY.)
Me? Bitter? Oh, you perish that thought. You seem to have forgotten that I am the DEFINITION of sweet, simple, innocence. (The fact that this is not the case will not be taken into your consideration.)
Okay, I get it. My body's telling me something, and you're not gonna like the message it's sending. It's tellin' me that I'm lookin' for love, and guess what?
You ain't it.
Don't get me wrong - you're a nice guy, but that's just the issue. I have this critical fantasy in which I'm arguing animatedly with my fellow and then he pulls me close in the moment, still debating some point or another. You wouldn't do that, and everything within me screams out that anything else would be a BAD idea.
No, she's not such hot stuff. You and I both have to accept that. For once those clouds clear, and they will, there will be other stars to guide you. And the star you choose won't be her, won't be me, 'cause I KNOW that I'm a flame which will burn you.
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