hr ne w tlat bngun ke grja,ckckckck
tp akhirny ke grja c.hehehe.abz dr greja w lngsung ke ps (Plaza senayan)ama nykp.
di ps w shopping" gtu de(byasa cwe)hahahaha.w beli vest bru di esprit,wew!! hrgany..ckckckckck..
tp gilaa modelny bguss bgt da.hahaha
btw td w jg dibwain brownies kukus ma sodara w gile..sumpaa de.enagg bgt tu.hahaha
u pd patut cobaiin!!!!
so thats all i do 4 today.n this is a song to u...
Our Song
Songwriters: Swift, Taylor Alison;
I was riding shotgun with my hair undone In the front seat of his car He's got a one-hand feel on the steering wheel The other on my heartI look around, turn the radio downHe says, ?Baby is something wrong??I say, ?Nothing I was just thinkingHow we don't have a song? and he says
Our song is the slamming screen doorSneakin' out late, tapping on your windowWhen we're on the phone and you talk real slow'Cause it's late and your mama don't knowOur song is the way you laughThe first date man, I didn't kiss her and I should haveAnd when I got home, 'fore I said amenAsking God if He could play it againI was walking up the front porch stepsAfter everything that dayHad gone all wrong or been trampled onAnd lost and thrown awayGot to the hallway, well, on my wayTo my lovin' bedI almost didn't notice all the rosesAnd the note that saidOur song is the slamming screen doorSneakin' out late, tapping on your windowWhen we're on the phone and you talk real slow'Cause it's late and your mama don't knowOur song is the way you laughThe first date man, I didn't kiss her and I should haveAnd when I got home, 'fore I said amenAsking God if He could play it againI've heard every album, listened to the radio Waited for something to come alongThat was as good as our song'Cause our song is the slamming screen doorSneakin' out late, tapping on his windowWhen we're on the phone and he talks real slow'Cause it's late and his mama don't knowOur song is the way he laughsThe first date man, I didn't kiss him and I should haveAnd when I got home, 'fore I said amenAsking God if He could play it againPlay it again, oh, yeah, oh, oh, yeahI was riding shotgun with my hair undoneIn the front seat of his car
I grabbed a pen and an old napkinAnd I wrote down our song
