The blonde who's in a band with her twin
Gives you a lift and idles the engine,
Leans over and tells you how it's gonna be.
I know about her, does she know about me?
Or the long-tail pony with the thick, dark mane
Fourteen hands, four thousand names
You share her feed at the compound trough
And then climb back on when she throws you off.
There are other boys, too
There are other boys, too
There are other boys, too
But don't let it worry you.
And the spider you kissed in her stairwell
Where she demonstrates acoustics to ne'er-do-wells
Then spins her web and sells her spells
To others in her clientele.
And the chick who writes songs and then insists
On playing them, yes, she's persistent.
How could any man resist
A girl with such a big setlist?
And the one you whisper to when you call her,
She's taller than a basketballer
So you're both on deck before the wreck
You'll either drown or crick your neck.
There are other boys, too
There are other boys, too
There are other boys, too
But don't let it worry you.
And that sometime star of stage and screen
Who had a bit part in a film back in her teens
No, I'm not saying she wasn't great
Perhaps she planned to be upstaged by the Empire State.
And the one who smokes your cigarettes
Yeah, she might pose the biggest threat yet:
When no one else can intercede
She's got the stuff you think you need.
I've seen them come, I've seen them go
Through the big swings doors at the old chateau
When they quit calling, texting, knocking,
I will be there for the locking.
There are other girls, you see
There are other girls, you see
There are other girls, you see
But I don't let it
There are other boys, too
There are other boys, too
There are other boys, too
But don't let it