I don't care for tights, she says 
and does not tell me why 
She hikes her skirt above her knee 
revealing one brown thigh 

I see, I say, and wonder at 
her slender little fingers 
How cleverly they pull upon 
the threads of recent slumbers 


Do you know where friendship ends 
and passion does begin? 
It's between the binding of 
her stockings and her skin. 
(oh yeah) 

She stayed up so late I thought 
she'd ask me to go dance 
But something in the way she laughed 
told me I had no chance 

The fiction in her family 
was that she was never nice 
I'd say she was very 
I just did not see the price 

Do you know where friendship ends 
and passion does begin? 
When the gin and tonic 
makes the room begin to spin. 
(oh yeah) 

There may be attraction here 
but it will never flower 
So I'm assigned to read her mind, now 
in this witching hour 

Here's no game for those who claim 
to be easily bruised 
But how can I complain 
when she's so easily amu