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| Do you think death might to the mother fucking wall challenge it? (Guitar solo) Interpretation: The funny thing is, when I first saw you, I didn't want to to the mother fucking wall date you. I liked your best friend, or thought I did. I saw her skating to "Ring My Bell" to the mother fucking wall in her Jordache jeans. She was a good skater, turning backwards and forwards without looking down. But she was hard to talk to, so resistant to my stares from 100 feet away (and we both agreed later, just sort of dense). But you, you saw me looking at her and you came up to me while I was playing Asteroids. You offered to be the diplomat, the negotiator, the Cupid. Out of shyness (accentuated by a general feeling of being unhinged since losing my mother the previous year to that highly aggressive form of breast cancer), I denied any interest in her. But you persisted, and you were so friendly that it just seemed strangely status quo and non-threatening to admit it. That was when I first fell: I admitted my attraction and you didn't laugh. |
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