Burn the books, we're starting over from scratch.

[singlexservings]

Headstrong now, wishing I'd fall.
Sometimes, the script doesn't read right.

Here it comes, my selling-record song.
Making millions, we'll make millions.
Here it comes, my pseudo-super song.
Making millions, we'll make millions.



*friends only*

Tongue-tied, I started slurring the words.
Whispering, talking to myself.

I need you to sing along.
Comment and add me.
We're all close friends here.

I only want to be new sight for your sore eyes.

Love Always,
Chucks*