Blue jeans, white shirt
Walked into the room you know you made my eyes burn
It was like James Dean, for sure
You so fresh to d**h and sick as ca-cancer
You were sorta 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
I will love you 'til the end of time
I would wait a million years
Promise you'll remember that you're mine