"I guess you say"…dashing eyes, games of play.
She is a know-it-all, per say. Look here.
Say you see..."What can make me feel this way?"
Look empirically, "my girl." My fear.
The vitals inside slither and wither.
Slim impression. Will this one be worth it?
How shall’st such gal come o’er hither?
Then, our eyes click. Initiative’s hit!
This instant, neither good judgment or luck,
Hit me. This moment. I needn’t a coach.
No need to act or move. He’s right there, stuck.
Just be my girl by making the approach.
Y’all’s sight is no worse than hers or mine.
All’s thinkin’ be-shortsighted sometimes.
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