Saturday, October 04, 2003

Hey, butterscotch creams. As usual, I'm abusing the privileges that a blog entails, but I just thought I'd take time to let ya'll get a. . .gander at this. Wrote in about five minutes, so its a lot of emotion and not a lot of structure. But that's how I like it. If you get down with this, holla at this link and search for Jones, Javann. Jones being the last name, Javann being that name before the middle name. Anyway, without any more delay, here ya go:

You make me want to write, till there's nothing left, you make me wanna dance, like nobody's looking. I guess what I'm trying to say, is if you wanna look my way, it'd make more than my day. Kinda like my whole year, ain't not minicing words here, this is for real. I guess if this were lets Make a Deal, you'd be that door with the good prize behind it. So good it makes me want to tape and rewind it. I know it seems kinda childish, but I like the fact that you're so stylish. I hate to say things that sound trendy, but can I call you late like Wendy? There's a lot of things in this world that don't make sense, so that's why I'm hoping we'll be more than friends. Its hard for me to realize my dreams, when in I see you in every one, standing next to me. Misdirection is what I've always done, and maybe just this once, I'll break down and be straightforward. Its you my feelings are directed towards, and I'd hate to miss more than an opportunity of my lifetime. So is there anything you'd rather me say? Is there something else or another way, for me to tell you how you make me feel? I guess I'm just keeping it real. You make me feel like. . .you make me feel.

Take it easy fruit medleys.

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