A GAME OF YOU
Maybe he won't call her Ms. Cregg anymore. Maybe he'll scream her name.
My, what talented hands you have.
The Vera Wang's gone and so is his tux.
Oh, you didn't learn that at Secret Agent school.
He won't take a bullet for her. She won't let him. Then he couldn't make her moan and grasp blonde hair going to gray in hands with perfect, manicured nails.
You can't make me let you go.
Maybe he won't call her Ms. Cregg anymore and maybe she won't be crying on a bench while the lights around her flash blue and red.
FIN