I Think You Might Be My Person (A song about longing)

Uh-hi… Hello. Okay… okay… You got this. (You do not, in fact, got this.) So-uh-hi, I mean, hello… Wow… that… that wasn’t it. You walked in and my brain Just fell out of my head, Rolled across the floor, And probably died under a vending machine. And your smile… Wow. Okay, voice. Betrayal much? I swear I talk normal When you’re not around. I-I just … When you look at me, My voice goes system failure. Like a bike chain that needs Holy water… Or WD-40… Or both. I think you might be My per-per-person. Didn’t mean to yell that … My voice has, like, Its own opinions. I think you might be my person, Please pretend That sounded cool. ’Cause even when I squeak Like a goose in emotional crisis… It’s you. It’s always you. I wrote a speech to sound smooth And heroic, But then you walked up And my brain screamed, “Abort mission-play dead!” I meant to say, “You look nice today,” But instead I said: “You look… nice… like a chair?” Why did I say chair? Who compliments someone By comparing them to furniture? I swear I’m smooth In my mind … Just not In my whole body. My heart goes, “You got this, king,” While my voice goes, “Absolutely not.” I think you might be My per-per-person. If this were a movie, This part would be romantic… And not whatever this is. I think you might be my person … That was my soul Escaping through a squeaky hinge. When you’re around, I malfunction In the key of puberty. My knees forget to knee, My words forget to word, And my voice tries every octave Known to man- Plus several known only to whales. But still, When I picture my future… You’re in it. Always. I think you might be My person. I think you might be My person. Sorry- That one came from my soul Or my vocal cords dying. But I’m not taking it back- Not the cracks, Not the panic, Not the chaos. ’Cause the truth is, I like you so much My hormones physically riot. I think you might be My person… If you’ll have me. …Yeah.