A boy once wondered if he ever had a chance
A beautiful popular girl with a caring glance
He wrote on a piece of paper his thoughts so true
He doubted how to give it to her, what should he do
She had never really spoke to him, not once in class
She was about to leave, he would have to act fast
He grabbed his bag to leave, as she walked through the door
Scuttling through after her, knocking her to the floor
Apologising clumsily for his involuntary act
Slipping her the paper into her sack
She ran to catch her bus, scared to be late
Just getting there in time, is this to be fate
He would have to wait and get through the weekend
Thinking about this girl, maybe a girlfriend
The days passed by agonisingly slow
Sunday night now, just one sleep to go
He arrived at class, not knowing what to expect
Would it be good news or would it be reject
She came into class smiling in her stride
He was beside himself, starting to subside
She sat down behind him, books on the table
Starting her day off as if it was a fable
The next time you want to talk to me, don’t knock me over
Try asking me out instead you great big cassanova