Famous Last Words

She’s not my type, she’s much too tall

She doesn’t fit my arms at all

She makes me think, I can’t just slide

It’s sure to be a bumpy ride

I’m sure I’m safe, can’t fall in love

I know she will not push or shove

I’ll never change. It’s true I say

She cannot make me, there’s no way

Well, yes today a new routine

It’s different though, know what I mean?

She’s, oh my goodness, looking fine

But she CAN’T fit my heart’s design

She’s talking, whispering in my ear

I cannot now think straight or clear

She’s not my type I must maintain,

But there’s not truth to that refrain

It doesn’t matter my brain’s hype

My heart swears she’s my new type

Richard Higley © Jan 2012