Ode to a Guitar Player Named Mr. E
You crack a joke about my gutter-ball bowl
And I fire back 'bout your T-shirt-tan-guns,
But really I'm dying to give you a squeeze
And I know you like looking at my sexy buns.
Oh yeah, I act like you're just a big dork
And you tease me like you're pushing away,
But I know you're just waiting for that phone to ring
And I'm
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