his touch is like an angels , as his hand slowly reaches for mine .
the memory of being whit him , hunts me time by time .
his blond hair in the wind , bleached by the summer sun .
remainds me to lighten up , think of something else and have some fun. his voice plays in my head and his presences makes me week .
slowly have i grown to love this man , who told me to stand up an speak.
to tell the world about feelings bought good and them bad ,
never to shad a singel tear , and hopefully not ever feel sad .
he flashes his millin dollar smile at me in every magazine .
but deep inside he is hurting , why ? he wont shear that whit eaither you or me .
he is lonely , its cold and he just want to go home .
but he knowes he have to say , and do a job well done .
loving and caring he looks at his fans ,
true out it all this is where the story ends .
whit so many loveing people who take away his fears ,
no need for him to be sad no more ore ever shad his tears .
now he is happy doing what he loves ,
and that we all love him alot , trust me this man knows
