If I were you and I wish that I were you. All the things I'd do to make myself turn blue. Well I suppose I'd start by removing all my clothes. And tie my pantyhose around my neck.
On August first, nineteen-eight-one. I cycled to Scott's house with a BB gun. We were almost twelve, but we looked thirteen. He had baby-blue eyes that I shot him between.
If you want my love tell me 'bout tomorrow. 'Cause I can't wait one more day. . Cold in the night, waiting for a promise. So all alone I'm hanging on.