I'm Crazy

They say I’m crazy. That I reach too high – someone like you is out of my league, why try? But not a day goes by when I don’t picture you by my side or about the house in which we will reside.

I wake up in the morning and see your face hovering over me. My mind can see what it wants to see and makes be what I want to be. For this delight I pay no fee.
I see you staring down at my sleepy face, last night’s make-up and panda eyes - you smile. Anyone else and I would have run a mile – but you put me at ease. Kiss me softly, I beg you, please.

I stop your lips from touching mine, the wine is still on our lips and your lips are so fine. We planned only to dine until the clock struck nine, our intentions we did undermine.

It’s more than just a one night stand Andrew. Tell me so. This feeling is so real and I don’t want to have to let go. Do you have a girlfriend? Stacey I recall. She doesn’t know anything about you at all.

I know how when you get nervous you lick your bottom lip. My friends say I need to get a grip. I love how you struggle to hold your smile in an interview. I know that you are 1.9 meters tall and always clench your right hand when hitting the ball. I notice you always rubbing your nose – anything goes. I love how you are above deft – It’s cute you had your ear pierced on the left. I love it when you answer with ‘It’s a great feeling really’, on interviews post match about to faint nearly.

But yet, I’m here and you are there.
With her your love you share.
Your pyjamas you let her wear.
In her eyes you do stare. . . .

They say I’m crazy.
I’m crazy because I care.