She's got no taste hand on his waist, tries to pull away but his lips on her face,
"If you insist I'll have a white wine spritzer"
"Sorry love, but you ain't a pretty picture."
Can't knock em out, can't walk away,
Try desperately to think of the politest way to say,
Just get out my face, just leave me alone,
And no you can't have my number,
"Why?"
Because I've lost my phone.
"I recognise this guy's way of thinking..."
As he comes over her face starts sinking,
She's like,
"Oh here we go.."
It's a routine check that she already knows, she's thinking they're all the same.