Look at that boy. Aren't I just lucky?
That greasy gross boy is unbelievably yucky.
He grabs my hand and thinks he's all stunning,
but all he really does is make me flee running.
He isn't a man, but he says he's in love.
I'm sad he's that boy that looks like a dove.
When I said that I liked him, I meant just as a friend.
Except the second text I wrote, just wouldn't send.
I tried and tried till the message sent. SCORE!
Then, Here comes gross lazy knocking at my door.
I must've lead him on, be accident of course.
All that pushing and shoving must be the source.
He smiles like a creeper, when he looks at me.
When I tell him to stop, he denies all my pleas.
I guess I do like that mouse of a man,
but becoming his girlfriend really WASN'T my plan.
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