here's a shop down the street, where they sell
plastic rings,
for a quarter a
piece, I swear it. Yeah, I know
that it's cheap,
not like gold in
your dreams, but
I hope that you'll still
wear it. Yeah, the ink
may stain my skin, and
my jeans may all
be ripped. I'm not
perfect, but I swear, I'm perfect
for you...and there's no
guarantee,
that this will
be easy. It's not a miracle ya need,
believe me. Yeah, I'm no angel, I'm just me, but I
will love you
endlessly. Wings
aren't what you need, you need me.
This is what my best friend's signature is from his
email
Endlessly, By the Cab
