Whose Site

You had good bones
Such good bones, boy

It’s that thought that found me
When you found me, boy

So I let you stay a while, sit a spell
Set a spell on me, boy

Marksman, Sharpshooter, Expert
Shoot, boy

You took aim
You took me, boy

Set your sights
But whose site is this anyway, boy

That needy, narcissistic arrow
Was not the way I needed you, boy