Intro song:
You make time move so slow that I can hear flowers grow,
while singing songs that I don’t even know;
You make me wanna stare into space
and reconfigure constellations to the image in your face;
You make me wanna start fights with “I’m sorry,”
Just so that we can end them as they’re starting,
And I don’t even think you know the way that you make me glow,
The things that you make me . . . the way you make me . . .

You make me wanna do dumb sh-t.

You make me wanna do dumb sh-t like tell you I miss you when I’m with you.
No, not when you’re gone -
I miss you when I’m with you.
Because as soon as I kiss you,
I remember how painful it’s going to be to leave you again.
So, sometimes, I just don’t …
4 sunrises later still holding you
and listening to the voices in my head asking me,
“Why aren’t you tired of this girl yet?

You make me wanna do pathetic sh-t - like take up gardening
Just so that I can plant 12 seeds into fertile soil
and we can lay on our bare stomachs
in the wet grass
holding hands
everyday at sunset
and watch them grow into the dozen red roses that I will promise to give you,
just as soon as they become beautiful enough to deserve you.

You make me wanna do ridiculous sh-t.
Like, yesterday
I counted the number of breaths I took,
and compared it to the number of times I thought about you
and the thoughts won by one,
because I fell asleep on an inhale
and almost suffocated under the weight of a dream that turned out to be
one,
single,
8 hour
thought
about
you

and woke to find myself waiting to exhale,
and waiting to check mail,
and waiting for Nextel
to deliver the antidote of your voice to my loneliness.
You see, there are only two types of names that appear on my caller ID -
yours
and ANYBODY else’s!
and sometimes the mere prospect of the seeing the former
is the only reason why I answer my phone at all.

You make me wanna do ignorant sh-t -
like go to the ATM to pull out $40
and on an impulse
add an extra 0 to it,
head straight to the airport,
and catch a cross-country flight to you,
cause as far as I’m concerned -
a last minute plane ticket? $300,
and a cab ride to your home? $55
And a dozen red roses? $45
But . . .
the thick swell of love that lights up those dark constellations you call eyes
when you see me standing at your door?

Priceless.

You see, there are some things that money can’t buy,
but for everything else?
There’s every little dime I have
trying to spend every bit of time I have
with you …
making me wanna do

retarded sh-t.

You make me wanna leave the one I’m with and start a new relationship with you,
Even if the one that I’m with is you,
you make me wanna start us anew . . . everyday,
So that we savor and hold on to this adolescent feeling that keeps us up all night,
listening to each others silence
and responding with smiles.

You make me wanna do stupid sh-t -
like get arrested for running up on stage during the LA Philharmonic Orchestra
just because I suddenly felt like conducting a symphony for you!

You make me wanna do dumb sh-t -
like tattoo your name across my heart using backwards letters
so that it can only be clearly seen from inside me.

You make me wanna do dumb sh-t -
like walk right up to my father, and hit him dead in his face,
Just to prove to you,
that I would die for you!

You make me wanna do dumb sh-t
like spend four years getting a Bachelors degree,
two years working on a teacher’s credential,
interview to teach at a school.
get hired to teach at a school,
And then get fired,

on my first day,

for telling my 5th grade students:
forget reading,
and writing,
and math -
for the rest of this year we’re gonna pretend like we’re on a Lauren Hill interlude,
because all I really wanna talk about

is love.

Outro song:
You make me want to leave my job and spend my days chasing butterflies,
while singing you lullabies,
You make me want to make love to you so passionately
that we’ll remember this moment in all of our other lives;
And I’ve never loved enough one else enough,
To do so many dumb things that make me blush;
And I don’t even think you know the way that you make me glow,
The things that you make me … the way you make me …

© 2002 S. Andrews, All rights reserved. Unauthorized duplication or use is a violation of applicable laws.

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