Looking out my window at some one as I'm writing this
And I watch him eat a peach, the way he's biting it,
biting it
And I probably shouldn't stare, but I am fighting it,
fighting it
And I think that he's aware and kind of liking it,
liking it
On his motorbike, the way he's riding it,
On his motorbike, the way he's riding it,
riding it
And he says it feels so good but he is hiding it,
And he says it feels so good but he is hiding it,
hiding it
Wet lips to cigarette and now he's striking it,
lighting it
As he looks me in the eye, hell, he must know he's inviting it
I've got nothing to prove,
I've got nothing to prove,
ain't got nothing to lose
If you need someone to use,
If you need someone to use,
I can take the abuse
holding up some paper to his window,
holding up some paper to his window,
he's writing his name
and number and I'm laughing as I'm dialing it,
and number and I'm laughing as I'm dialing it,
dialing it
