She Can Play Me Like A Drum Machine

I know a girl who thinks just like I do. Stays in her room, reads numbers not words. Make an assumption: a new equation. Now I can't think about other birds. Under the seven numbers she gave me, only a first name. With anyone else I'd throw it away. But she can play me like a drum machine. I look out the window. I know I'll be here for a while. Under the stars we don't wish for money, just another sunny afternoon. I should go solo and play on the banjo along with her favorite Bill Monroe tune. Over the counter prescriptions surround her. She's up and down on a trampoline. With anyone else I'd throw it away. But she can play me like a drum machine. Know something: I'm not a stand-in. I'll be here a while. Know something: I'm not a stand-in, but I don't know why. I know a girl who thinks just like I do. That might not be true. She comes close. Make an assumption: a new equation. If she were a drug I'd overdose.