Uh-oh. Uh-oh. Uh-ohohoh. . Uh-oh. Uh-oh. Uh-ohohoh. . Can you keep up?. Can you compete?. You tip and you toe to the middle of where we meet.. Where we meet..
And it feels like an endless December that chills. Black mascara that runs down your pretty face. Your smile is out of place, days got you down. But things are looking up.