is of the baristas cleaning up the coffee shop, 1 in the morning, you singing along to an Adam Levine song I usually hate, but this time I'll make an exception, me acting coy when I catch you staring but good god do I love it, watch me melt into a puddle of nothing and everything, nothing spoken but everything said, I just hope my eyes don't give me away because yours sure as hell do (not that it's a bad thing) and how badly I want to tell you that after years of worshipping John Lennon, I might just have found a new favorite Beatle.
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