Sand And Ann Taylor

Artists : Player Hater : Sand And Ann Taylor

Jesus Christ, I'm a mess
I see her in a summer dress
In my mind, on the beach
Always just a little bit out of reach
But I see, see her there
Running small hands through her long red hair
Jesus Christ, I'm fucked up
I can't forget, I think about it too much
In my mind, on my bed
I just can't get those images out of my head
But I see her and me
The happy, smiling couple that we used to be
And I tried to count up our favotire singers
Bu I quickly ran out of fingers
Which means the only voice I've got to get me through
Is my own since I can't stand to hear
The sound of our favorite bands in my ear
And because I can't stand to hear from you
Jesus Christ, I'm depressed
I'll never see her wear that dress
With my friends, on the beach
With the next thirty years in our reach
But she's still, still out there
Showing someone else all the things she likes to wear