You don’t need a palm reader to know that when I’m around you my lifeline sometimes gets tongue-tied. Don’t need the sandman to know my sleeping dreams often send you fan mail. No special intuition required to understand you’re ubiquitous above all I hold fantabulous. No hush money payday will ever bribe away my heyday for your howdy. Even when you’re seeing red I’ll reveal the whites of my eyes to get you feeling pink. No Roman god of cosmetology can ever improve upon the beauty of your cosmology.