The Crush

I walk into a concert hall and don’t even look your way,
“She doesn’t give a fuck,” I’m sure you say.

Little do you know that I came just to see you and act all casual like I don’t want it to be me and you.

As much as I try to fight it, you keep entering my mind.

Same goes with my day dreams and dirty bedtime rhymes.

Its like you are camped out in my subconscious and you got the fire going all day.
I wanna stay there with you, hot and tempted by all that you have to say.

I want you, there's no other way to say this.
I wish I didn’t have to lay my heart out on this piece of juvenile tidbit. 

There's so many things about you that get to me.
Your tattoos,

Your smile,
Your attitude and of course,
Your bad boy style.

Don’t get it twisted though, it’s not just the superficial.
Don’t label me as just another fan girl whistle.

There's something about you that makes me think there is not another you but no tattoos and a B.A. just isn’t what you are used to.
That’s okay, I don’t mind, I’ve always had a thing for opposites.
Why?

Similar has just never blown my mind.

You think I’m a good girl and I am but don’t think I don't have what you need in this T.O. land.

Want somebody to hold you, I’ll be that girl.

You’ll play your new song for me and I’ll read you my next blog.
And then well do some lines and all will be good. 

Hand in hand, walking like we should.

I don’t easily like someone, that’s why this is so rare but it’s
also exciting because I think of all that can be there.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing.
A bad girl at heart.

Come on, corrupt me with your leather and all that dark.