When I catch sight of your face And the late light falling on it I feel scared and I scope the area out for a good place to hide When I feel the way your fingers Wiggle in my palm I feel warm and I feel good inside And I know that you're wearing a wire But as the sun becomes a blazing orange ball of fire I lose interest in this and other such inconsequential questions When you kick off your shoes
And I see the wet gra** give way underneath your feet And the sunset rears up once more to its burial ground Well, you look so sweet And I know you'll be turning me in But I also know your real name's not amy lynn And as the orange globe rears up to swallow us, too, I see you look at me and figure out what I know about you Well, I'm not telling I'm not telling you anything