She’s not my type, she’s much too tall
She doesn’t fit my arms at all
She makes me think, I can’t just slide
It’s sure to be a bumpy ride
I’m sure I’m safe, can’t fall in love
I know she will not push or shove
I’ll never change. It’s true I say
She cannot make me, there’s no way
Well, yes today a new routine
It’s different though, know what I mean?
She’s, oh my goodness, looking fine
But she CAN’T fit my heart’s design
She’s talking, whispering in my ear
I cannot now think straight or clear
She’s not my type I must maintain,
But there’s not truth to that refrain
It doesn’t matter my brain’s hype
My heart swears she’s my new type
Richard Higley © Jan 2012
