He's a sweet boy but he doesn't have a clue He's got the world in his palms but he doesn't know what to do Chasing women and that summer time living But his heart is always chilly I wonder what he's thinking Maybe there's a pot of gold at the end of his road Or maybe a helping hand to split and assist carrying the load He's loosing sight of his dreams but they're never out of mind He won't notice now but it's just a test of time I wish that I could let him know what he means to me That the little white lies are nothing but history The time is right now Ninety nine
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