I rest my head in the palm of my hand,
And my elbow grinds numbly into the desk
I'm sure my eyes have glazed over by now,
As I drift over to somewhere more... picturesque
I'm walking along with someone else,
But, no, now I'm dancing and, no...
Now I'm riding aong in a boat on the river,
Now I am laughing, wherever I go
Ah, and your eyes, are such a stormy green
And your lashes so close to mine,
Your eyes are so deep, so overwhelming,
So fiery, and expressive, and kind
As you bend in closer, I blush and turn away;
I look back, and you disappear,
As Mrs. Longfield asks,
"Are you paying attention, Lyre?"