I tried to make a joke
You didn't seem to listen
The cafe was full of smoke
And I was fiercely bitten
The wind outside could bite
But love for you was savage
Was my conversation trite
Or weighed down with luggage?

She's got a lot of problems
She makes me quiver

The soft suede of her boots
"You admit you are neurotic"
Your Maxfield Parrish suits
"Is style like a narcotic"
But if I can't be debonair
I'll just be gaunt and gothic
"Can we make a pair"
Yes that would be exotic.

She's got a lot of problems
She makes me quiver