You could be wearing an old t-shirt
And nothing but some raggedy jeans
And you would look like you walked in
Off the cover of some magazine

You whispered past my walk on the street
And murmured a "hi" between words
It left me in gasters, a reeling and hot
With no choice but these echoes absurd

You could be wearing a ragged old shirt
And some torn-ass tight-waisted jeans
And you'd always look like you just walked off
The cover of some fashion magazine

A breath on the sidewalk and I'd write a book
a look in your eye as you passed me downtown
You make me want to write poetry indecent
And sing it while you dance undown

You could be wearing some paint-splattered shirt
With a johnny in your spare pocket jeans
And you'd look like you just finished making
The cover of some glamour magazine

(instrumental verse)

You could be wearing my favorite shirt
Any random old pair of jeans
And you'd always look with that simplest of smiles
Like you walked out of my wildest dreams

I hadn't expected such cheekbones, such eyes
To glance, much less take me down
But your spirit still lingers, your perfume my fingers
And I can't stop recording these clouds

You could be wearing an unbuttoned shirt
And took off my favorite jeans
And you would look like you just walked in
On the fever of my wettest dreams

And you could be wearing some old t-shirt
And just your raggedy jeans
And you'd look like you just walked off
The cover of a fashion magazine

2/10/24