Snap your fingers
That rhythm pounds in your head
Dances in your heart
Your eyes roll up like the shades in the all-night diner
Your mascara drips
Oozes onto your lashes
God, you hate the clumps!
Oh, you're worth being late for
Give 'em the old stare down
Because they make you envision the top of the world
You swear there's nothing like a double beat
Falling in love with the ipod generation
"I'll never let you go..."
Smiles that hide your mystery
Your blood is the ink on the paper
And it seethes, profound
You could be Janis Joplin in Monroe curls
Or maybe as ironic as Alanis back in '95
And you're not afraid to admit your guilty Ginsberg pleasures
Give him that side smile 'cause you know what he's thinking
And you could dissect anyone
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