Blue jeans, white shirt
Walked into the room
You know you make my eyes burn
It was like James Dean for sure
You're so fresh to death and sick as cancer
You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hop
Blue jeans, white shirt
Walked into the room
You know you make my eyes burn
It was like James Dean for sure
You're so fresh to death and sick as cancer
You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hop
I will love you 'til the end of time
I would wait a million years
Promise you'll remember that you're mine
Baby can you see through the tears
Love you more than those bitches before
14 year old writing a love letter to her soulmate of 3 days teas.