I've got you under my skin.
I've got you deep in the heart of me.
So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me.
I've got you under my skin.
I tried so not to give in.
I said to myself, "This affair, it never will go so well."
But why should I try to resist
When baby I know so well.
I've got you under my skin.
I'd sacrifice anything come what might
For the sake of havin' you near.
In spite of a warning voice
That comes in night
And repeats, repeats in my ear:
"Don't you know little fool,
You never can win.
Use your mentality -
Wake up to reality."
But each time that I do
Just the thought of you
Makes me stop before I begin.
'Cause I've got you under my skin.
I think I had a strange dream last night, but I can't remember it well. In it I met a girl that I liked, and she seemed to like me. For some reason I was staying in a hotel, as was she.
Well, I kept trying to call down to her room, but things kept happening to prevent me. People showing up, this and that.
I'm pretty sure I know what my subconscious was telling me on this one, mainly because my conscious mind is telling me the same thing.
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lads and hilly lands.
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
Yes, I know Yeats. I'm surprisingly well-read for a mathematician.
But back to the subject at hand, who knows? Maybe something will work itself out someday. There's not a whole lot I can do about things now, and there's no point to acting crazy and unstable and overly emotional. This sort of behavior usually scares girls off.
Ah, the perils of being a hopeless romantic forced to live in the harsh, cruel world. As some wise men once said, "Hey, you've got to hide your love away."
But enough of all that! I'm just sad today, and shouldn't be dragging you all down with me.
Thus I bid you a good morning, and hope your days go well!
I've got you deep in the heart of me.
So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me.
I've got you under my skin.
I tried so not to give in.
I said to myself, "This affair, it never will go so well."
But why should I try to resist
When baby I know so well.
I've got you under my skin.
I'd sacrifice anything come what might
For the sake of havin' you near.
In spite of a warning voice
That comes in night
And repeats, repeats in my ear:
"Don't you know little fool,
You never can win.
Use your mentality -
Wake up to reality."
But each time that I do
Just the thought of you
Makes me stop before I begin.
'Cause I've got you under my skin.
I think I had a strange dream last night, but I can't remember it well. In it I met a girl that I liked, and she seemed to like me. For some reason I was staying in a hotel, as was she.
Well, I kept trying to call down to her room, but things kept happening to prevent me. People showing up, this and that.
I'm pretty sure I know what my subconscious was telling me on this one, mainly because my conscious mind is telling me the same thing.
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lads and hilly lands.
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
Yes, I know Yeats. I'm surprisingly well-read for a mathematician.
But back to the subject at hand, who knows? Maybe something will work itself out someday. There's not a whole lot I can do about things now, and there's no point to acting crazy and unstable and overly emotional. This sort of behavior usually scares girls off.
Ah, the perils of being a hopeless romantic forced to live in the harsh, cruel world. As some wise men once said, "Hey, you've got to hide your love away."
But enough of all that! I'm just sad today, and shouldn't be dragging you all down with me.
Thus I bid you a good morning, and hope your days go well!
I don't think it's necessarily white Anglo-Saxon Protestant and Catholic culture. It's just certain people in that culture. Anglo-Saxon has a rich folklore tradition in which many magic things are not evil, but I'm sure I don't have to tell EnglishGirl this.
I think it's more a fundy thing; I don't know exactly. Maybe people have forgotten that tradition. I'm sure they would be quite shocked to know that the ancient kings of their people had to copulate with horses...
well, i meant basically WASP culture from 1600 to present day. pretty much American WASP culture, actually. if you look at Early American literature, you'll see what i mean. were you referring to Chaucer and his compatriots?