Baby You're A Firework, Come On, Let

I'm Okay With Having Bad Dance Moves. I'm Okay With Having Horrible Lower Teeth. That's What Makes Me Me, And For Some Reason It's Worked Out All Right.

They Think That I Was Like Amy Grant, When Actually No! The Label Went Bankrupt And Maybe Sold A Couple Hundred Records And That's About It. I Was Just Trying Different Things.

I Say What I Think. I'm A Real Person, Not Some Manufactured Pop Tart Who's Afraid To Step Out Of The Hotel Room. I Am Flawed. I Swear, I Have The Occasional Cocktail, I Pick My Nose And I Fart. I'm Not Running For Any Presidential Campaign At The Moment. I'm A Sassy Girl.

The Summer After High School, When We First Met, We Make Out In Your Mustang, To Radiohead, And On My 18th Birthday, We Got Matching Tattoes, Used To Steal Your Parents Liquor, Then Climb To The Roof, Talk About Our Future Like We Had A Clue, Never Thought I'd Wondering I'd Be Losing You In Another Life, I Would Be Your Belle

I'm Happy, I'm In A Good Place, I'm Looking Forward To My Future.