---

He, he observes you from where he sits,
You, it unnerves you, you lose your wits.
He, he ignites you with eyes of flame,
You, it excites you, you like the game.

And I, in my chair, though I hardly speak,
I notice each innuendo. And I, in my chair,
I’m stricken with fear at seeing the end so near.

He, out to win you, he woos with style,
You, you continue to coyly smile.
He, with his quarry on hunting ground,
You, only sorry that I’m around.

And I, in my chair, though I hardly speak,
I see just how well he’s doing. And I, in my chair,
I’m trying to hide the dread that I hold inside.

He, his eyes flatter, your glances touch,
You, now you chatter a bit too much.
He, like a gypsy, he serenades,
You, you grow tipsy, your laugh cascades.

And I, in my chair, though I hardly speak,
My heart’s on the verge of crying. And I, in my chair,
My heart understands the love is now changing hands.

No, no, it’s nothing, a little headache only.
Maybe I had one too many?
Well, we better go home now.
Yes, this was a beautiful evening, indeed.
A beautiful evening…

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