One touch,

That's all he needs.

Just one small touch

And he's planted the seeds.

Seeds of want and longing

And of passion and desire.

You shouldn't listen;

The boy is cold, icy fire.

Run far away

And don't give in.

If at all possible,

You can't let him win.

With one wink

He has you hooked,

And with one touch,

You wish you'd never looked.

Looked into his deep blue eyes,

And drank in his soft brown locks.

But now you are his

And at the mercy of the clocks.

For they will soon strike night

And you will give in

To his sweet, seducing words

And Cheshire cat grin.

When the morning comes

You'll be alone once more;

He won't be next to you,

And you'll wonder what it was all for.

The courting, the playing,

The loving, the leaving.

He left with a part of you,

And for that you should be grieving.

But you feel it was worth it;

With him it always is.

No one calls him out

On this habit of his

Because no one complains

When he's all done.

They let him love and leave,

For they had fun.

Life is a game

And he's just a player.

Always drifting around,

Casanova's a strayer.