I watch you on the tv every week
I wanna buy your cd 'cause your voice just makes me weak
I love your coat, your hair, your throat
The way you smoke and rant and joke
Seeing Spike is like a little death
with every breath I don't take
Please Mr. Marsters, give me your number
Please Mr. Marsters, tell me your sign
Please just say you'll make it go away
I've been thinkin' 'bout what if you were mine
I keep collecting newer Buffy stuff.
And even with the reruns I can never get enough
With SMG and David B and Nick and pretty Aly
And of course Joss, the boss, who always writes
the sex and fights and banter.
Please Mr. Marsters, give me your number
Please Mr. Marsters, knock on my door
I can't believe you, when I can't see you
I just keep wanting more, more, more
More naked Spike, more angry fights,
more pretty songs, less right, more wrong
More evil schemes, more sexy dreams,
Let's have a Buffy marathon
More candlelight, more look, more touch
'cause you can never have too much Spike
I love your coat, your hair, your throat
The way you smoke and rant and joke
Seeing Spike is like a little death
with every breath I don't take
Please Mr. Marsters, give me your number
Please Mr. Marsters, tell me your sign
Please just say you'll make it go away
I've been thinkin' 'bout what if you were mine.
Please Mr. Marsters, give me your number.
Please Mr. Marsters, knock on my door.
I can't believe you, when I can't see you.
I just keep wanting more, more, more.
