Your 80
It was our own act of rebellion.
It was our own little piece of heaven.
And I will be any girl you want me to be.
Even if she isn't me.
And I could be your 80.
On your porch, in your arms, watching you sleep.
And I would ignore your friends, your mom and all the things I'd loose.
If you were the thing I'd keep.
You could sing about me, my painting on your wall.
And when I fell for your everyday, you wouldn't let me fall.
We could share small things, stupid things.
And it would mean everything.
And I could be your Miley.
Tripping lightly down the stairs with your hand in mine.
And the sky could crumble but if you remained.
I'd just look at you and watch you shine.
I would love you for all the useless cons.
And I would worship them and never think of them as wrong.
When your glasses were missing and there was rain in your hair.
I'd still call it debonair.
And I could be your Sophie.
Sitting on the bench with my head against your chest.
And you would write across my palm; "I love you."
So I would never forget.
I migh even start to deserve you, piece by piece.
I could be lovely for you; we'd meet somewhere in between.
Ad you could watch as I breath, as my eyes flicker with the lights.
And we'd plan our future together in those long nights.
And I could be your Livvy.
Secret snatched kisses when everything seems a sin.
And when I need the sun, I just look at you.
And in this debacle, I might win.
And I don't want to be popular; I want you to know me.
When there's everything to notice, you're all that I see.
And I would camp for days with my boombox out on your street.
Because for your affection, I don't want to compete.
But even now, you don't want me.
You're so close but you're so far away.
I'll still be waiting, in case you ever need someone.
You only have to say.
It was our own little piece of heaven.
And I will be any girl you want me to be.
Even if she isn't me.
And I could be your 80.
On your porch, in your arms, watching you sleep.
And I would ignore your friends, your mom and all the things I'd loose.
If you were the thing I'd keep.
You could sing about me, my painting on your wall.
And when I fell for your everyday, you wouldn't let me fall.
We could share small things, stupid things.
And it would mean everything.
And I could be your Miley.
Tripping lightly down the stairs with your hand in mine.
And the sky could crumble but if you remained.
I'd just look at you and watch you shine.
I would love you for all the useless cons.
And I would worship them and never think of them as wrong.
When your glasses were missing and there was rain in your hair.
I'd still call it debonair.
And I could be your Sophie.
Sitting on the bench with my head against your chest.
And you would write across my palm; "I love you."
So I would never forget.
I migh even start to deserve you, piece by piece.
I could be lovely for you; we'd meet somewhere in between.
Ad you could watch as I breath, as my eyes flicker with the lights.
And we'd plan our future together in those long nights.
And I could be your Livvy.
Secret snatched kisses when everything seems a sin.
And when I need the sun, I just look at you.
And in this debacle, I might win.
And I don't want to be popular; I want you to know me.
When there's everything to notice, you're all that I see.
And I would camp for days with my boombox out on your street.
Because for your affection, I don't want to compete.
But even now, you don't want me.
You're so close but you're so far away.
I'll still be waiting, in case you ever need someone.
You only have to say.