Barely conscious in the door where you stand/ Your eyes are fighting sleep while your mouth makes your demand/ You laugh at every word trying hard to be cute/ I almost feel sorry for what I'm gonna do/ And your hair smells of smoke/ Who will cast the first stone?/ You can sin or spend the night all alone/
Romy: Swear to God, sometimes I wish I was a lesbian. Michele: Do you want to try, to see if we are? Romy: What? Yeah, right, Michelle. Just the idea of having sex with another woman creeps me out. But if we're still single at 30, ask me again. Michele: Okay.