You. You. You. You don't make me happy. I make me happy. Being around you just makes all the other stuff go away. But happiness? No no, all mine. You. You. You. Who is this "you" I'm always talking about?
Undo your belt and drop your skirt, I want to see what's playing on your skin skin skin. Lift your shirt, bare your chest, I want to see what makes your blood go tick tick tick.
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