Lyrics

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