In the middle of an otherwise perfect early afternoonnThere’s a stained glass sun streak shining through into my roomnI take a look at the clock, I fumble round for a socknI’ll mosey down the blocknnAnd I will see Melinda, as I’m making round the bendnShe always treats me like a little more than a friendnLike a little more than a friendnShe picks me up and puts me down againnnShe’s always ready with a chuckle and a tilted headnMelinda sings to me the praises of an unmade bednHey I’m a little undone, take a seat in the sunnIt’s all in good clean funnnShe sees me hiding my delight that she won’t tell me whennShe always treats me like a little more than a friendnLike a little more than a friendnShe picks me up and puts me downnnAnd tips overnLets me almost get to know hernAnything she doesnI’m in and out of lovennHey what’s the matter with thatnYou should be tipping your hatnBut look, you’re standing flat, when InnI see Melinda as I’m making round the bendnShe always treats me like a little more than a friendnLike a little more than a friendnShe picks me up and puts me down again…