He has swagger, that boy over there
Smiling assassin with all that wavy hair
and the girls like to swoon like
a moth to a lightbulb – tink, tink tinking at his feet
Wears a face like he’s looking for trouble, subtle licks from his throne whilst he picks what to eat
But that trick you house up your sleeve is a joke
pretending your amaretto
is a whisky and coke
and to try to engage you is just not worth the bother
I’ll drink mine alone
Cos I’d rather see what is under that jacket
Have you got the goods, can you truly hack it?
Do you talk like you walk or are easily distracted?
Anyone ever told you you’re really attractive?
It’s time to walk home