"What's your
type?" they ask.
And I sit there, and think.
I think, and I think, and I think.
But I can never answer them,
For I don't have a "type".
I'm not picky.
All I really care for;
All I really want
Is someone who'll love me;
Someone who will take me for who I am.
"What's your type?" they ask. And I sit there,
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Apr 17, 2013 1:26pm
