My Bobby has gone and deserted his thread The thread began to entice me to it To make me NOTICE him, to play with him He couldn't take the heat so he fled the kitchen He thought he knew what he was doing That the word would be on his side On his lips, on the tips of his fingers And would crash into me like fire burning blue Engulf me, obsure me, burn him into my eyes Like the after-image of sun through trees Burn his word, he wanted to burn his word He was gonna be so cool, too cool All the chicks would want him, but I would burn for him He thought, he thought, he thought to himself And I came, enticed to the trap he had set He thought, but I had set the trap before him And *snap* it shut on him, over him, obscured him He struggled but it was no use he was held Fast, tight, he could barely breathe, barely speak Barely forms the word, even in his mind Sweat popping on his brow, sliding down the small Of his back he struggled uselessly, crying out With bad limericks, grasping at rhym...