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de Ruth B.

Rough around the edges
Hates when people see him weak
But I don't think he's thinking
When he's all alone with me

Blues turn to an auburn red
I'll make my mark in his head
I see his walls come down

One by one
One by one

He writes poetry, but no one knows
I think I love him 'cause no one knows
He don't have a favourite colour
He says: It's too hard to choose
But I'm his favourite girl, ooh
I'm his favourite

Tells me all his secrets
I promise that they'rе safe with me
I know that no one's еver gotten this far in his dreams
I watch his walls come down

One by one
One by one

He writes poetry, but no one knows
I think I love him 'cause no one knows
He don't have a favourite colour
He says: It's too hard to choose
But I'm his favourite girl, ooh, ooh

I'm his favourite
I'm his favourite girl, ooh, ooh
I'm his favourite girl

He writes poetry, but no one knows
No one knows

I'm his favourite girl
I'm his favourite girl
I'm his favourite girl, ooh
I'm his favourite, ooh

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