Caught

I have no business knowing about record players
They were out of vogue before I was playing Truth or Dare
But you know that spot, where the record’s worn a groove
And the needle gets caught, like it’s inking a tattoo?
Well, so it is with your voice
You’re every answer, every clue, and I haven’t got a choice
And the very hope of you drifts over my bed at night
Like a just-out-of-reach kite…
And then I’m caught, you’re tangled in my hair
And in my every thought and it isn’t fair
'Cause you’ve no business being there
I have no business knowing about slide projectors
But I was blessed with an old fashioned art professor
Though I can’t recall much of what he taught
I remember all the slides where it got caught
And so it is with your face
Down streets and avenues I see you every place
And the very hope of you drifts over my bed at night
Like a just-out-of-reach kite…
And then I’m caught, you’re tangled in my hair
And in my every thought and it isn’t fair
'Cause you’ve no business being there
I have no business knowing the Latin beat
Wasn’t born in Rio or with roses in my teeth
But the rhythm gets caught and dances 'round my brain
Like the endless drops of Seattle rain
So it is with you, dear
There is nothing I can do; you are near me even when you aren’t near
And the very hope of you drifts over my bed at night
Like a just-out-of-reach kite…
And then I’m caught, you’re tangled in my hair
And in my every thought and it isn’t fair
'Cause you’ve no business being there