Look at me,
I'm as helpless as a kitten up a tree
And I feel like I'm clinging to a cloud
I can't understand,
I get misty, holding your hand.
His little beard, his flowing robes, his petroleum cologne. You should have stood behind him when he prayed toward Mecca...oh la la!
His soft hands...
His sweet smile...
His good natured way...
His six-pack, how in the world does he maintain those abs?
Maybe I should talk to Lump about it, fess up...
But bein' truthful has never really been my deal.
No, I'm going to do what I want to do.
No, if lovin' him is wrong, I don't wanna tell the guy on the right.