♥Blue jeans, white shirt, Walked into the room, you know you made my eyes burn, It was like James Dean, for sure, You're so fresh to death & sick as ca-cancer. You were sort a 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… ;) ♥
