Lauren

Lauren is from a North Carolina town,
and I cast my eyes down when I see her.
I want to be her man, but I don’t like who I am,
I don’t know what demon rides me, burns me.
 Lauren says she’s singing at the Pilot Light,
and I’d love to stand out there in the dark
and watch her glow like an angel in the light.
I’d love to be the pure hearted admirer, giving his heart.
 I sit on the roof with a bottle of red wine, while parties go
and people shout and laugh, and unaware people live life.
Drunk and dreaming of her face, her light, her sweet voice.
I love her, and that’s why I’m turning away.
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