She’s So Dangerous

(Best with Michael Jackson’s Dangerous playing looped, for those without, lyrics are present)

The way she came into the place, I knew right then and there there was something different about this girl…

This girl is dangerous. Oh man, I know it already. The way she can draw every man, having every boy there dancing straight into the spell of her words. Oh man, this girl is dangerous. And I know I’m no exception to the other guys, nor am I any more special to her. This is just one of those girls that does that certain something that capture the attention of every guy in the room and make them feel singled-out at the same time. You wouldn’t know it from meeting her at first… sure she’s nice and you are drawn to her, but you don’t see the universal appeal in her attitude… but then you see her in her prime, in her environment, and she’s marvelous and you know you aren’t special for finding qualities in her. No, because this girl has every guy in her hand. And she’s dangerous, because you know this… yet you don’t care.

As she stalked the room, I could feel the aura of her presence.
Every head turned, feeling passion and lust…
The girl was persuasive. The girl I could not trust.
The girl was bad. The girl was dangerous

She sat in my car singing along to every Postal Service song, oh man (not too mention her excitement when Singin’ in the Rain began playing and she dragged me out to dance… not that I was reluctant, that’s why she’s dangerous). You even gave her the CD so she could take it home and copy it, since her copy was stolen. A simple considerate action at first glance, but it’s how the offer instantly came to your mind. This girl is dangerous.

The girl is so dangerous.
Take away my money, throw away my time.
You can call me honey, but you’re no damn good for me.

She has given me the opportunity to perform again… how very clever and devious of her. She must have planned this, for such a cunning move is so perfect at hooking me even more it couldn’t have been chance. Fate is conspiring with her, working through her life… the kind of fate that likes to screw with people. The way she persuaded me to join the performance, “oh, you should do it,” with her hands holding onto my arm for extra effect.

She came at me in sections with the eyes of desire…
I was at the point of no return…
And then it happened she touched me…
But her inner spirit and words were as sharp as s two-edged sword.
But I loved it ’cause it’s dangerous…

 She touches you softly, as if she’s familiar with you, comfortable, leaning in closely to tell you something as though such information was meant solely for your ears. That is so appealing to every guy. But so dangerous.

And I just laugh. Because I know all this, and yet I don’t care. And I know that she must know all this as well. It’s all just fun. She mesmerizes every guy she meets with a very refined skill; and it’s good to know I am a guy, along with the others. A conscious player in a wonderful game.

But you’re no damn lover friend of mine.