Start in the middle,
Where all warmth and understanding lies.
Then make your way to the ridge,
To the very edge of all-known splendour,
Just so that you know,
(At least you think you know)
How far you can go.
Then dump it all out,
(The middle, the ridges, the warmth)
And just kiss her.
Make her shoot out of her boots.
Kiss her, kiss her, and then kiss her.
Because for you, and her, and the world,
There's no hope in getting less sillier.