(dateless 'cause i wrote this one sometime ago/forget da date)
I was in the 7th grade with the most beautiful angel
Hoping that she'd be my darling, baby
Like Maid Maryann and I'd be Robin Hood
Writing poetry about her beauty and her looks
I thought I'd get her attention
So asking my good friend, Little John for advice
He told me do what any good-looking fox would do
Of course, I called her in order to get to know her sweet self
But, she often worked or often slept.
When she was actually home and answered the phone,
She told me could I call her back later or
Could she call me back.
Was I supposed to call back?
Was she going to call me?
How was I suppose to know
What was I going to say?
Whose gonna have my back when it's all gone; yeah
Oh, she's my angel she's my darlin' baby
Oh, I haven't seen her lately
I asked Little John again.
He told me, I dunno
He asked me an interesting question
When I was in love with her
Am I now?
