Dan Bigelow - 1990->2022
When she is walking, she moves like a song. |
Like bees to a flower, to her I am drawn. |
She's witty, she's clever, her smile is sweet. |
Her body's a sculpture, ... this girl I must meet |
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Pure class, she's all woman, she's quiet and shy. |
Her laughter's pure music, there's a fire in her eye. |
Her manner is simple, her spirit is free. |
I hope that this world will draw her to me... |
Through this world we amble along, |
Looking for someone to share in our song, |
With little direction, our wit and our lust, |
Looking for someone, to love and to trust ... |
A casual a lady, she likes to have fun |
Doesn't do excuses, she just gets (sh)it done |
She hangs with her friends, but stands on her own feet |
This gem in the rough would make my life complete |
But my story continues, I married that girl |
Two amazing children, our life's been-a-swirl |
She's become our anchor, our shimmering light |
It'll say on my tombstone, "I got one thing right" |
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I get to see her again! |