January 2011
1 post
“But in a box beneath my bed, Is a letter that you never read, From three summers back It’s hard not to find it all a little bitter sweet, And looking back on all of that, it’s nice to believe..
When you think happiness, I hope you think of that little black dress. Think of my head on your chest, And my old faded blue jeans When you think Tim McGraw, I hope you think of me.”