She calls me the Danger Boy.
And here's why ...
She says I'm the Danger Boy because I have a book under my arm, because I know where the flat is and have the keys but won't tell, because I thumb my nose at The Man. I am Danger Boy. James Bond movies and rock 'n' roll parties, and isn't it really just all about Octopussy? I say. She says my kiss is dangerous, says the world "just doesn't work that way" but then says why not? Then again ... says that I'm outta the box, but I retort that that means, then, that the Universe is a "box," imagine - square like a brick, isn't that strange, and that cannot be - no, how can the Universe be so square! (as we imagine it) and there must be a better way to Understand it. She concurrs, and let's fly a wild, beautiful giggle. Danger Boy.
Fuck conformity - let's move into something new. "I really believe in all that happy horse-shit like World Peace, and all the other stuff," I say, "and we gonna fight like mad to get it!"
"Das schaffen wir auch ..." she says. ("We gonna do it ...") Wow. She DARES me to fly to Paris, now.
What's life without a little danger? she says. I like that. She's dangerous, too. Oooo. Beautiful, she's wild and impulsive. She brings wanna-be heroes to their knees (sayeth I). Let's walk that line, Danger Boy, but we don't need no atomic bombs or faked elections. We just are ... Danger. We ride the tube under the radar (schwarz fahren - they'll never catch us!) and contemplate stealing a police car. To keep her on her toes, I tell her that I'm her "kick." She says that I'm her "delimma," (yeah!) that I'm a black magic man (maybe) with wicked intentions. Who's more dangerous? Who knows?
So many reasons, so many ways to be dangerous!
But ya know, Love is the most dangerous thing in the Universe.
Stay dangerous ... -Todd