(lix)
He flopped me on his shoulder, felt my kicks,
And we both stumbled into whitest snow
Near his infamous farmhouse out the sticks,
I felt embarrassed, my cheeks garnered glow.
His sports convertible obeyed remotely clicks,
It's soft top rose, and rolled back low, to stow,
Sun bright, moon pale, sky blue, his lucky picks,
My salon do flopped down my face in tow.
So I slapped his back, I uttered screeches,
He skidded ankle high in sleet one place,
We fell in snow near his car, big embrace,
Set off motion sensor blindfold reaches.
I blared, his coupe harmonised its bleeps,
I knew my surly squire was landed keeps.
(Chorus)
o bleeps
o chirps
o hoots
