Never touched a beer, whiskey ain't my scene
Cigarette smoke makes my lungs wanna scream
Latte art's a mystery, green tea's just a chore
Never needed a pick-me-up at four in the morn

But lately I'm wired, can't seem to unwind
Got a nervous twitch and a restless mind
Doc says I'm healthy, no chemicals to blame
Just gotta relax, but that's a losing game

'Cause I'm not an addict, but I'm addicted to you
Got a craving for your smile, a high that's something new
No withdrawal symptoms, just a constant desire
To see your face set my soul on fire

Used to sleep like a rock, silence all around
Now my brain's a jukebox, stuck on a love sound
Replaying conversations, dissecting every word
Wondering if you felt the same, every unheard

Staring at my phone, waiting for a text
Even the blinking cursor makes my heart flex
Got butterflies in my stomach, a buzzing in my head
Is this a crush or am I losing it instead?

Maybe it's just a phase, a dopamine reaction
But this feeling's so strong, it's pure satisfaction
Never thought I'd crave something this much, it's true
But honey, you're the only drug I wanna pursue

Yeah, I'm addicted to you, a love so pure
Hope you're the dealer, 'cause this feeling can't endure
Without another fix, another touch, another you
So baby, tell me, are you addicted too?

Whatever I do, and whatever I say,
Aunt Tabitha tells me that is n't the way;
When she was a girl (forty summers ago)
Aunt Tabitha tells me they never did so.

Dear aunt! If I only would take her advice!
But I like my own way, and I find it so nice
And besides, I forget half the things I am told;
But they all will come back to me—when I am old.

If a youth passes by, it may happen, no doubt,
He may chance to look in as I chance to look out;
She would never endure an impertinent stare,—
It is horrid, she says, and I must n't sit there.

A walk in the moonlight has pleasures, I own,
But it is n't quite safe to be walking alone;
So I take a lad's arm,—just for safety, you know,—
But Aunt Tabitha tells me they did n't do so.

How wicked we are, and how good they were then!
They kept at arm's length those detestable men;
What an era of virtue she lived in!—But stay—
Were the men all such rogues in Aunt Tabitha's day?

If the men were so wicked, I 'll ask my papa
How he dared to propose to my darling mamma;
Was he like the rest of them? Goodness! Who knows?
And what shall I say, if a wretch should propose?

I am thinking if Aunt knew so little of sin,
What a wonder Aunt Tabitha's aunt must have been!
And her grand-aunt—it scares me—how shockingly sad
That we girls of to-day are so frightfully bad!

A martyr will save us, and nothing else can;
Let me perish—to rescue some wretched young man!
Though when to the altar a victim I go,
Aunt Tabitha 'll tell me she never did so.