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