He started to woo her in a most peculiar way
The Librarian's dress was a fawnish shade of grey
The books he was to borrow he would surely never read
They had an intellectual calibre
He hoped that she would see
He planned to take her home to bed some day
He'd smooth her goosebumped skin whilst she lay
But the unspoken thing they both knew
Whilst he'd dream of her often
She would forget in just ten minutes
Her beauty has not truly been seen
Until her beauty's been seen by his tired eyes
Her tears have not truly been dried
Until her tears have been dried on his tattered shirt sleeves
He was beginning to irritate so she made him go away
The smallest cruellest insults she ignored his subtle ways
The deftly silence let him know his efforts were in vain
Did the words ever exist and if so could he find them
Her body has not truly been stripped
Until her clothes have been ripped by his nail bitten fingers
Utill her beauty's been seen by his tired eyes
And oh, oh the loneliest of nights
He will never hold her tight
He will never kiss her eyelids