We're sitting close, the lights are low, I'm trying to be chill. I know the rules, I know the drill, gotta practice my self-will. My mind is focused on the screen, or so I tell my brain, But my peripheral vision... it's driving me insane.
That Curve is calling, that texture's loud, it's a neon sign in a crowded room. I swear my hand has got a mind of its own, sealing my fate and my doom.
I start with a touch, a gentle, casual lean, Just testing the waters, keeping it clean. But then the gravity kicks in, the system starts to fail, I'm reaching for the Merchandise without leaving a paper trail.
It's a Magnet Problem! I didn't mean to grab, I didn't mean to hold. It's a Magnet Problem! My urges are loud, my self-control is old. I know you hate it, baby, I hear your tiny sigh, But I'm just checking the quality of the finest Merchandise!
I gotta stop! (But I can't!) I gotta lift my hand! (It's still there!)
We're in the kitchen, making toast, the morning's feeling bright. You turn your back for half a second, putting me in a dangerous light. I could be helpful, pour the juice, or check the weather app, But no, my hand is waiting patiently... for a squeeze trap.
I promise you, it's purely instinct, a reflex I can't tame, Every time you move those Curves, I play this grabbing game.
I start with a touch, a gentle, casual lean, Just testing the waters, keeping it clean. But then the gravity kicks in, the system starts to fail, I'm reaching for the Merchandise without leaving a paper trail.
It's a Magnet Problem! I didn't mean to grab, I didn't mean to hold. It's a Magnet Problem! My urges are loud, my self-control is old. I know you hate it, baby, I hear your tiny sigh, But I'm just checking the quality of the finest Merchandise!