Stefanie Scott

ey, ey, ey ya know brown-eyed boy I called ya knew you weren't from California we just met when you took my hand and said hey let's go I don't wanna let you go ripped jeans playing guitar as we both laid under the stars you look up to the sky and say

Five minutes 'till the curtain goes up And how I hate myself for thinking of you So in the past, but the memory lasts Of how you hated everything that I do You never paid attention To dreams I'd mention You'd just go out your way to simply ignore You