My tiny boyfriend, you're almost small enough you don't 
exist at all, but I am looking in the cracks to find you. 
My tiny boyfriend, let's see  you're petite and me, 
myself, I'm plenty tall. If you would help me to avoid 
the measure, I know we'd have a ball. I know we'd have a 
ball. I got so consumed when you were talking to me, with 
how your lips were moving for my sole attention  I didn't 
actually hear you as you flattened out the grounds, 
speaking with no sound and shrinking, while handling a 
cupcake. My tiny boyfriend, I bet you didn't see me, your 
girlfriend on the bench, 'cause you were dripping out 
some slob's espresso. Oh, my miniscule lover, those beans 
smell vile to me. (I never could be French.) But I am 
looking over rocks to find you; I've dug myself a trench. 
I got so consumed when you were talking to me, with how 
your lips were moving, that I forgot to mention that I 
just liked being near you  as you flattened out the 
grounds, speaking with no sound and sighing when you made 
a tiny mistake. My tiny boyfriend, I want to see love 
grow like a dino from a capsule in the sink, and that's 
why it's sad that you don't even know me  but we could 
fix that if you've got tonight free. There's a feature I 
would like to go see. Would you be my tiny one and only?