| Underage on the pavement, streetlight as spotlight
|
| Silent block, sidewalk seat
|
| Pulling, picking weeds
|
| Tell me all of it
|
| You downplay the weight by talking quick
|
| While I braid your hair with my hands
|
| Everywhere I look, there is a river
|
| A notebook float that I live on
|
| We gawk and laugh
|
| Our lips are the same color through the blue glass
|
| The light just wants to hang around you
|
| Time capsules already sorted through
|
| And in the girls room, hip to hip
|
| A circle of I admit
|
| I, I just want to hang around you
|
| Do you?
|
| I just want to hang around you
|
| I made a magazine
|
| I left off our names
|
| I hid one in the toilet stall
|
| Sprinkled a few in the hall
|
| Stole the book about
|
| Your favorite band
|
| By throwing it out of the school library’s window
|
| You said you got a ticket from speeding to see me
|
| That whole summer, we wrote letters like Anaïs and Henry
|
| You left some things unsaid
|
| And I liked you more for that
|
| And in the girls room, hip to hip
|
| A circle of I admit
|
| I, I just want to hang around you
|
| I just want to hang around you
|
| Do you?
|
| Ooh, ah
|
| Ooh, ah
|
| Ooh, ah
|
| Ooh, ah
|
| Ooh, ah
|
| Ooh, ah
|
| Ooh, ah
|
| Ooh, ah
|
| Ooh, ah
|
| Ooh, ah
|
| Ooh, ah
|
| Ooh, ah |