there's a letter left on your doorstep and the first thing that you'll read... is when you think tim mcgraw, i hope you think of me. i grabbed a pen and an old napkin and i wrote down our song. it's a love story, baby just say yes. all the pages are just slipping through my hands and i'm so scared of how this ends. the girl in the dress wrote you a song. lately i don't even know what page you're on. the story of us might be ending soon. she's the kind of book that you can't put down. i'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here, cause i remember it all too well. i guess we fell apart in the usual way and the story's got dust on every page. i'd write this in the sky, i miss you like it's the very first night. oh my god she's insane, she wrote a song about me. i can see the end as it begins. you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars and why i've spent my whole life trying to put it into words. you'd be more than just a chapter in my old diaries. is this the end of all the endings? don't read the last page, but i stay. i hope i never lose you, i hope it never ends. if the story's over, why am i still writing pages? you know the greatest films of all time were never made. tried to change the ending, peter losing wendy. i think i've seen this film before and i didn't like the ending. you taught me a secret language i can't speak with anyone else. now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life, drawing hearts in the byline. long story short, it was a bad time. long story short, i survived. pages turn and stick to each other. on the way home, i wrote a poem. you wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking. how long could we be a sad song? swirled you into all of my poems. put narcotics into all of my songs, and that's why you're still singing along. and it was written, i got cursed like eve got bitten. feeling like the very last drops from an ink pen. but she's got the best stories, you can be sure, that as she was leaving it felt like freedom. the professor said to write what you know, looking backwards might be the only way to move forward. now and then i re-read the manuscript, but the story isn't mine anymore. all my white diamonds and lovers are forever, in the papers, on the screen, and in their minds. have seen it before, they'll see it again, life is a song, it ends when it ends. i'm immortal now, babydolls.
