Blue jeans, white shirt
Walked into the room you know you made my eyes burn
It was like, James Dean - for sure
You so fresh to death and sick as ca-cancer
You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hop
But you fit me better than my favorite sweater, and I know
That love is mean, and love hurts
But I still remember that day we met in December, oh baby!

I will love you till the end of time

[x]