The Masterclass

You’ve got a neat desk,

a clean-cut line, A calendar blocked out to the minute and time.

You check every detail,

you measure the strain,

While I’m looking at you and forgetting my name.

You speak in calm cadences,

steady and clear, The calmest exception to everything here.

And I watch you work,

watch you take the lead,

Giving the world just the focus it needs.

Then you look up,

and the blueprint breaks,

And I’m counting the risks that a quiet heart takes.

Oh, my love is a professional,

Calm in the storm and conventional,

Handling the chaos with grace and a pen,

Then looking right into my eyes once again.

I’m a mess of margins,

a stumble and start,

And you’re the masterclass holding my heart.

You close out the laptop,

you straighten the stack,

There’s no missing data,

no step doubling back.

You laugh at my rambling,

patient and kind, An orderly peace in a disorganized mind.

You handle the pressure like second-hand air,

And I’m just completely off-guard sitting there.

Yeah, I watch you work,

watch you take the lead,

Giving the world just the focus it needs.

Then you look up,

and the blueprint breaks,

And I’m counting the risks that a quiet heart takes.

Oh, my love is a professional,

Calm in the storm and conventional,

Handling the chaos with grace and a pen,

Then looking right into my eyes once again.

I’m a mess of margins,

a stumble and start,

And you’re the masterclass holding my heart.

They teach you the rules for the job on the floor,

They hand you the manual right by the door.

They don’t write a chapter for what you do to me— A

total derailment of certainty.

You study the data,

you look at the plan,

And you hold my hand like a professional can.

Yeah, my love is a professional,

Calm in the storm and conventional,

Handling the chaos with grace and a pen,

Then looking right into my eyes once again.

I’m a mess of margins,

a stumble and start,

And you’re the masterclass holding my heart.

Just a neat little desk.

A steady-drawn line. You checking your schedule… And making me mine.

Yeah, pure precision. An expert at rest.

And somehow, out of it all,

You chose this mess.