Back then in the middle ages When you were catching on but no contagious I blew all my chances Shoelaces fumbled with no digits I swatted your advances Like they were summer evening midgets We really made a meal of our goodbyes We served them cold And undercooked You tell me I have got the bluest eyes But I can't remember It's been so long since I've looked There's no need to fight over me 'Cause I'm divisible by three Down there on your haunches Do you feel you let it go to waste? Do you get a bit self-councious When they say you have an aquired face? I'm sorry I didn't get home to make the children I stopped to watch a fire rip through buildings And onlookers said something about a silver lining But missing golden opportunities is my thing You've told me how difficult it gets Being so desiried in this town The next time you get the urge For being submerged And you can hold onto my wrist While I holding your face Down! The fog lifted while our lips overlapped You're not that gifted Just beautifully gift wrapped The more I try to clarify The more the meaning blurs But maybe in the future I will say more using less words