He's in my head to a high extent
With worries that I don't resent...

She knows it's you
But she just can't say...

Do you ever wonder
What happens when you walk away...

Of freedom drawn
You're quite the pick...

Burlesque boys have told their tales
And I've bought the largest prize...

Pop a pill and drown an chance
I'll pick you up to have this dance...

The boy of the hour's clad in thigh high dreams
Blushing shades of controversial pink and red...

Through fragile skin I'll torture you
But time just makes the scares harder to see...

With big top's rotten and mirrors rust
Comes fears extreme with screaming must...

(The full title is "The Tale Of A Boy Who...
He named us all...

If I could dream just any dream
I'd dream a dream of you...

She's getting poetic
Just go, grab her pen...