Hypothetically speaking,
You'd be wearing red leather
Tacky like "Hell no"
And we'd verbally piss on society
Off buildings we scaled with bare hands
You'd still be less like James Dean
And more like a coffee-drinking, satirical-thinking adolescent
But I'd let you talk suave to me
Like you've never done before
I'd be the fire-mouthed babe
That quick-wit, back-sass, bad-ass babe
With hair like "Hell yeah"
Stone to emotional susceptibility
But I'd still be prone to ravish giggles
At your quirky odds and ends
The streets would reek with secret envy
While we defied pop culture
And kissed their measly cheeks
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