Hold me like a microphonenTurn me on and off and make menSay it's magicnYes it's magic to mennHold me like an air guitarnRun your fingers up my necknAnd play It's magic, yes it's magic to mennHold me like the keyboard notesnYou've been practicing for daysnAnd hope that somedaynYou'll be on your waynnI always see you in the frontrowsnYour eyes as wide as the television screensnTelling the stories of my oh so instant famenAnd maybe you'll be on the guestlistnAnd I can meet you after the shownIn the parking lot next to thenSuper Eight MotelnnHold me like a microphonenTwist and turn anyway you wantnIt's magic yes it's magic to mennHold me like a tamborinenShake shake shake so everyone can seenThat you're the only one for mennHold me like a crash cymbalnPound me 'till you're out of breathnAnd now it's over time for someone newnnI hope I hope I hope I'm turning you onnI hope I hope you're singing alongnI wish I wish I wish I could just stopnBut this is what it takes to string you along