She wore Blue Jeans On the scene, like the pages in a magazine She got long hair Never stare, you could call but she'll never be there She's at the corner at the Cafe Filled with adverts and a waiter named Wordsworth
--I think that I'm in love with her---
My heads empty, save a few lights Some cigarette butts and some afternoon fights I cant tell you what it means to Lay with the girl in the tight Blue Jeans
--I think that I'm in love with her--
Do you know how to get away from her Do you know how to survive
Sad... I should have never let you win
She wore Blue Jeans On the scene, like the pages in a magazine She got long hair Never stare, you could call but she'll never be there She's at the corner at the Cafe Filled with adverts and a waiter named Wordsworth