Blood pulsating beneath my skin,
As you look at me and you smile,
My heart trying to keep time with yours,
Slowly I'm picking up on your style
The tap of your pencil against the desk,
The vibrations of your feet against the floor,
The tempo speeds as I catch your eye
Then stops when she walks through the door.
And I pick up on the legato of her style,
Her flowing hair, her sparkling eyes,
All blending together as she moves,
And over to you, it seems, she glides.
Her rhythm is perfect harmony to yours,
My awkward beats, dulling the moment
The two of you composing a symphony,
And I'm fading away, becoming silent...
