They say at the age of 7, girls start planning their wedding
At the age of 17, they pick out the right gown
And at the age of 23, they without a doubt know who their best maid is going to be
But at the age of 17 I'm struggling to find the reason for matching rings
Because the material things are just exaggerating promises for something that can part your lips with ease

But out of all the stories I've told
I must admit, I've stretched the truth in the most entertaining ways
I'm not exaggerating when I say I love you
And I'm not exaggerating when I say that potentially waking up to the wall that is your broad back would be the most beautiful sunrise I could ever ask for
I would put my arms around you
Your skin would be cooling from the friction of last night's 1 am hormones
But I'd still hold on and hope to get a burn of some degree