I don’t know how to tell you
But looking at you has made me,
Choke on my tongue.
I stumble over the thin ice
Breaking the glass
And drowning in the sharp, cold water.
Wha-What to say?
I don’t want you to think
I’m just some middle school girl
Cant think straight,
Do you like food?
But I mean – who doesn’t like food?
I like to order pizza
On a Friday night,
When I have nothing to do
Barbeque chicken, hold the onions
From Deeks down the street.
I always order online.
Have you ordered pizza?
You know the feeling you get?
When you’re waiting for it to arrive.
Then suddenly, the doorbell rings
And you leap up from the couch,
Tip money in hand
You just know it’s him.
The delivery man
And YOUR pizza
That feeling of happiness
The warmth and joy
Of seeing your pizza
The smells, oh, the smells!
The Barbeque, chicken and stringy mozzarella
Wiping the drool from your lower lip
You are the perfect pizza to me
My perfect pizza
That I could never get tired of
You know, I never get nervous
Unless its heights
That makes me nervous
You know the man
Who walked the tightrope,
Between two buildings?
You are a tightrope to me
Strong and supportive
You make me focus
But what if, what if I fell?
Because you make me feel so high
My palms start to sweat, for my fear of heights
But you saved me
Like an airbag
I can always count on you
Have you figured it out yet?
That I like…
Well… you?
