Happy birthday,
Steve!
I don't think it'd be a good idea to write you a song. And I don't know where to send the drums I might have bought you, but it's your birthday and also a Sunday, so I know bowing down and saluting you isn't the wrong way to go at all.
O why, why exactly do I obsess this much?
Because you're the only one who can wear that t-shirt and that anadem and still make me swoon.
Because, let's face it, you have wonderful cheekbones. I know I'm shallow.
Because you like to look silly, but you're always inevitably a smartass.
Most of all, you're not a rocker but you always rock.
I know I said
Sondre was the No.1 lad for a while, but know this: you simply can't be numbered. You're
up there. What
Cobain was to those people, you are to me. Maybe that's not a very good comparison but you get what I mean.
You know how I really started to love
Marc Jacobs?
It's you.
And so, I would steal you anything you see.
Tash xxx
*I know I said xxx was the No.1 lad for a while.but know this: you simply can't be numbered.*
Me too.
We are the same people.
You always said something just like what i thoght about it before.
It's weird but it's ture.