You've got tears in your eyes, but you still look fine. Either you stole my heart, or I'm losing my mind. Either way, would it cramp your style if I were to hang around for a little while?
I know I'm not a born romancer, and I've been told that I'm a silly dancer, but still.
Summer's coming soon, and I don't want to have nowhere to go, and there's a party tonight, but I don't know how many people I'll know. Anyway, I think it'd be better, if we were to walk in together. I promise not to sing out loud; I just want to hold your hand in the crowd, because you make me forget that everything is shit.
Honey, I know it's teenaged. I know it's deranged, but I won't call you weird if you don't call me strange. Really though, I wouldn't mind if we called each other crazy all the time. Recently, I've become convinced that you're the only thing left that makes any sense. You make me forget that everything is shit.