Cute Thing

I got so fucking romantic
 I apologize, let me light your cigarette
 Come visit Kansas for a week of debauchery
 Songs and high fives and weird sex
 Cute thing
 Don't be rude thing
 Hot thing
 It was nothing
 God
 Give me Frank Ocean's voice
 And James Brown's stage presence
 I will be your rock, God, when you're rolling the dice
 ♪
 I got so fucking romantic
 I apologize, let me smoke your weed, no wait
 Healthy minds make sexy bodies
 Let us touch so much of ourselves together
 Cute thing (cute thing, cute thing)
 Don't be rude thing (don't be rude, don't be rude thing)
 Hot thing (hot thing, hot thing)
 It was nothing (it was nothing, it was nothing)
 Dog (ooh ooh)
 Give me one little chance (ooh ooh)
 I can make you a man (ooh ooh)
 I will be your rock, dog, when you're rolling your eyes
 (Ooh, ooh, ooh)
 (Ooh, ooh, ooh)
 (Ooh, ooh, ooh)
 (Do do do, do do do, do do)
 (Do do do, do do do, do do)
 (Do do do, do do do, do do)
 (Do do do, do do do, do do)
 He died in an explosion
 Of mixed media and poorly written reviews
 And some stammering drunk who tried to tell him how good his shit was
 "That's- that's, ah- that's- that's some good- good shit, man"
 I accidentally spoke his first name aloud
 Trying to make it fit in with the lyrics of "Ana Ng"
 Worked like a charm
 We're getting old
 When will we walk in each other's majestic presence?
 Listen, hear my words
 They're the ones you would think I would say if I was John Linnell
 Or trying to be John Linnell
 I am love
 I am love
 I would sleep naked
 Next to you naked
 I am love
 I am love
 I would sleep naked
 Next to you naked
 I am love
 I am love
 Like some excommunicated priest
 Casting demons, asked one what its name was