Beata, Maria,
You know I am a stoic girl.
Of my reserve I am justly proud.
Beata, Maria,
You know I'm so much smarter than
The common, vapid, weak fangirling crowd!
Then tell me, Maria,
Why I see him stamping there,
Why his gray-brown eyes still scorch my soul?
I hear him, I see him,
Vanilla stripe still in his hair,
This squeeing from me has lost all control!
Like fire...
Hellfire...
This fire in my skin...
This burning, desire,
Is turning me to
SIN!
It's not my fault! I'm not to blame!
It's that librarian, that drummer is to blame!
It's not my fault! It's not my plan!
He made this silly little teen into a fan!
Protect me, Maria, don't let that Siren cast his spell,
Don't let his fire sear my flesh and bone!
Destroy "Swampy" Sherman,
And send him to the gates of Hell!
Or else let him be mine and mine alone!
Phineas walks into his darkened living room. "Beezy? What the heck are you doing in here? And why did you put a fire in the hearth? It's only September!" He looks around with curiosity and fear.
I stick my arms straight out at my sides and stomp my foot like a little kid. "Phineas! Go away! I'm singing about my obsessive crush on Sherman!"
Phineas blinks. "Wait, Sherman the librarian? The drummer from Love Handel?"
"You got it, dude."
Phineas shrugs, walking away. "Okay. Just put the fire out when you're done!"
"Now where was I?...Oh yeah!"
Hellfire, Dark Fire,
Now Shermy it's your turn.
Choose me or your fire,
Be mine or you will burn!
God have mercy on him...
God have mercy on me!
But he will be mine or
He...
Will...
BURN!