I SPY A LITTLE CUTIE

I see you, little cutie, sat opposite me,
you’re reading a book, I’m writing poetry.
I’d like to come over and talk with you,
ideally, I’d smile and say to you,
“Can I sit here and be with you?
Can I sit here cos there’s room for two?”

But I’d go bright red and turn bashful,
lower my head and feel a fool.

I wonder what your name is,
I wonder what you do,
if you’ve got a boyfriend
or the slightest clue,
that I’m gently looking over at you,
that I’m writing in my book all about you.

I’ve got to go to work now, I hate it there,
I’d rather sit here and softly stare.