I’m no Shakira

I can’t shake my hips like num-chucks
I can’t get-get lower than the floor
i can’t look at you and make you go speechless

i can’t strip- it down on a pole,

but baby i’ll strip any habbits you don’t like,

i’ll clean my heart and write your name on it, i can write a song about you, and sing it on tune, and isn’t that what matters?

and that i’ll wait for you all night in the cold.

i’ll throw rocks at your window until you look out, and i’ll do it so perfectly your parents won’t know.

cause baby i love you, and i’m gonna wait ti’ll you love me to,

sorry, i’m no shakira.

waitng for you...

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