You look nice, alright, and I like the way you nod after everything I say, like it actually means something to you. And I like your record collection, Townes and Jens with a hint of Rickie Lee. And you've cleaned up the bathroom, made a really nice soup, but a bit too much sci-fi in your shelf with DVDs.

But there are things you need to know about me; I'm weak right now, so weak right now. I need proof before I dare to open this heart, so I prepared a quiz for you: Would you freak out if I said I liked you? Do you walk the line? Is your IQ higher than your neighbour's? And is it very much higher than mine? Can you sleep when I grind my teeth? Do you look away if I slob when I eat? Will you let me be myself? Can you at all times wear socks, because I'm still scared of feet. And if i'd fall, would you pick me up? And if i'd fall, would you pick me up?

Do you talk in the middle of Seinfeld? Do you read more than two books a month? Do you get racist or sexist when you've had a few? Is it fine if I make more money than you? Have you slept with any people I work with? Is there anyone you'd rather wish I'd be? Do you still keep pictures of old girlfriends? Are they prettier than me?

And if i'd fall, would you pick me up? And if i'd fall, would you pick me up?
And if i'd fall would you pick me up?

And if i'd fall. Would you pick me up?