Emergency Songwriting

My friend Sean and I were making some food at my house. His friend-girl (not girlfriend) was planning on meeting us for some Balderdash later in the evening. By some turn of events, she texts him on his new, amazing Droid that she can't make it. It's always an unfortunate time when the prospect of being in the presence of women, in all their splendor, is impeded. So rather than sulk in the corner and spend the night playing Halo and crying in a puddle of urine (foreshadowing), we decided to try and turn the events back around. He texts back "No way, you have to come, I'm making food and I even wrote a song for you I was going to play, its called peeing in your pants". "Aww, really!?" she replies hinting that there may be hope after all. I wasn't entirely sure how a song about peeing yourself would get such a response, but whatever. It's still a shot in the dark, and more likely will just make her feel guilty than actually change her mind and decide to come over. She replies "I'll be there in fifteen". Wahuh!? We look at each other. We realize a new predicament. We have no such song. Sean doesn't want to look like a huge, lying d-bag, so that means we have fifteen minutes to write a full song, lyrics and melody, about "peeing in your pants" while still maintaining a lighthearted, slightly romantic and funny tone without being too ridiculous (assuming that would be the appropriate style for this situation). I also have never met this girl, so she may hear it, be completely offended and say "You guys are dicks" and then leave. We run upstairs, abandoning the veggie burger on the stove and we get crackin'. Sean was preoccupied guiding her, via the Droid, to the house and time was of the essence, so I scrambled to crank out some lyrics as fast as I could. My degree has finally come in handy. The lyrics go as follows:

You've got the prettiest smile
And I love the way you move when you dance
Something about your hair falling in your face makes me a little crazy
But its not as half as cute as when you pee your pants

So come a little closer
I'd like to give you a little

Tickle, tickle So I can watch you
Trickle trickle
Tickle, tickle So I can watch you
Trickle trickle

You shouldn't feel ashamed at all
It's something I can definitely overlook
Because the only thing that I really can be concerned about
Is the heavy beating heart you recently took

So come a little closer
I'd like to give you a little

Tickle, tickle So I can watch you
Trickle trickle
Tickle, tickle So I can watch you
Trickle trickle

If it would make you feel better
I don't mind clothes a little bit wetter
I never told anyone, bit I do it too, we can pee together

So come a little closer
I'd like to give you a little

Tickle, tickle So I can watch you
Trickle trickle
Tickle, tickle So I can watch you
Trickle trickle

Song Form (be careful, advanced songwriter use only):

Verse, Pre-Chorus, Chorus, Verse, Pre-Chorus, Chorus, Bridge, Pre-Chorus, Chorus

Yes, cliche lyrics everywhere, but that happens when you have to crank out a song in about ten minutes. Also I've never seen her dance, but it rhymed with pants, so leave me alone. I finish just as Sean is going back downstairs to let her in the door. He walks her up the stairs and through my bedroom door and I'm just finishing printing out the lyrics for us to read. Just as we are introducing one another, Sean goes "what's that burning smell?". Veggie burger. Fire. Death. He sprints downstairs and comes back up with something that looks like a veggie burger on one side, asphalt and charred seagulls on the other. He still ate it, though. Anyways she loved the song. Maybe we'll put up a recording of it sometime soon. In hindsight, I feel this may have been a little bit creepy to sing to a girl the first time meeting her. A very interesting way to make a first impression, but I think it was a worthwhile endeavor. I know what you're thinking. "Wow, Dylan, how much did it cost to harness such awesome skills that allowed you to write a song about peeing your pants in ten minutes!?" About $100,000 from Berklee College of Music. Dammit.