clean my room? pft

ALRIGHT, I've got to clean up in here.

The butterfly after this, has to be the last
There couldn't possibly be enough room for another
My stomach is filled to the brim

With each glance, a decade has pass'd
Daydreaming a possible lover
Wishing it'd be him

Blushing isn't something I frequent
But then again, he isn't my usual type
The brooding lustrous aura about

I swear, the beauty of it is brilliant
Cheesy as it is, I'd hit it like a pipe.
I think we're meant, no doubt