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What a perfect gentleman, they all gushed
Take your perfect brown eyes and look at me like I'm a star,
Tell me how amazing I am even though I doubt it
Share your deepest fear, growing old
Hey there handsome, what happened to unconventional
Why do you still own my ginger hair, even though I've lost it?
You talk of anointment, an almost beatification
Yet Lucifer looks like St Peter next to you
Forget crossing the pearly gates
You
Challenge me to believe in me
I cannot believe you remember me nursing you
All I remember is your hands stroking my arm
I never thought you perfect,
Perfection is overrated
I just needed to get to know you
And now I've lost you
And that doesn't make sense we're still friends
But friendship hurts
I want you to look at me like that again
If only once
That look that you gave that waitress,
The look of intrigue, interest
You asked why I hated her
There was something perfect about your body language
You the courteous gentleman sparing her feelings
Her the perfect lady, caring for mine
I cradled my head
Felt my heart frosting
Never to be melted again
Every time it's melted
It freezes harder
It's a horrible curse
I need my juju man
And you need your French je ne se quoi
That night on the heath, my heart was defrosted
It pumped harder as it uprooted the grass and their roots
As I screamed louder with euphoria
That glass of champagne
What a perfect gentleman, after the girls heard that one
Except that toxic elixir, that made me want you more on that sofa
Is no longer a binding force,
There's only you and half of a yellow sun keeping it company
I fell in love with you
And yet on that road, as you uttered goodbye I felt like I died
My heart turned into the Artic
Your lips as you said bye baby, left me stung
I howled inwardly like a baby
Tried hard to forget you, but all our spots make it hard to
And yet I'll never forget the firmness with which you hugged me
And how much I desired you to kiss me
Champagne will never be the same again
The joke is I wanted us to be friends
Now I hate us being friends
I wish I was Brazilian or better yet 30 and French
That way I wouldn't be your exotic middle age crisis solver
Your prized trophy
The quencher of your attention seeking thirst
The solver of your need to be the floor show
The one who reassures you, you're not old
The reminder that you still have 'it'
The one to brag about to the boys
All bored with middle age life, wives and responsibilities
That and more scarily, your prodigy, and muse
To groom and mould
And live all your dreams through
What a perfect gentleman!