Scene 12
Intro
Hat flipped backwards infatuation
Walking passed alone hoping you would see me.
You were 15
Band T-shirt and black skinny jeans.
I was almost 13
Singing Taylor Swift on the karaoke machine.
Music Break
Verse 1
It’s how you made me feel,
I was too shy,
To admit to the questionable feeling,
I was feeling for the first time.
I was only 13,
All I knew I wanted you.
So, I became bold,
And our first kiss was in someone else’s living room.
Pre-Chorus
And now I can call you mine.
Now please stay by my side.
Chorus
We were first time lovers,
Mr. Johnny-poo.
You took my breath away,
keeping me dazed too.
Never believing,
That we could break and bend,
Snap under the strain,
Of our contrarian terrain.
It was less than 9 months,
And I coulda sworn you were the one.
Verse 2
The little kids we were,
And all of our friends.
This was happiness,
Probably at my best.
We danced around, played games,
Sharing our spare days.
At the restaurant, spending your spare change.
Pre-Chorus
We called each other all the time,
I sang into the phone,
Breaking free from my insecure little girl.
And all the dates you’d mess up,
Just from being young.
I held on.
Chorus
You took my breath away,
Mr. Johnny-poo.
Believing in us and not believing,
That we could break and bend,
Snap under the strain,
Of our contrarian terrain.
It was less than 9 months,
And I coulda sworn you were the one.
Verse 3
The night you disappeared,
I remember vividly.
It was after you moved away,
To see some better days,
You spoke in silence,
While I wondered what happened.
This hurt even worse,
Then the last time we called it done.
Music lead
“Yeah…. Now we’re done…”
Bridge
You joined the army,
I saw you only once,
Years after we became someone else.
Your eagle tattoo,
And your brand-new blues.
From days so filled with sorrow,
You never had a clue.
But I’ll never forget,
The young love we had.
And your air escaping my lungs.
Chorus
You took my breath away,
Mr. Johnny-poo.
It was less than 9 months
And I coulda sworn you were the one
Yeah… you coulda been the one….
