I wondered then, "Who could this be?"
She looked just like some kid,
Who wandered in from off the street,
And in this school she hid.

It turned out she attended here,
I thought she was a brat,
And we could never be real friends,
So that was that, in fact.

I wouldn't even talk to her,
For I'd made up my mind,
That she was never meant for me,
But love is often blind.

And then one day in study-hall,
I saw her standing there,
A smile upon her lovely face,
And skin that was so fair.

Now that was many years ago,
A family we have raised,
That girl is mine until I die,
Our love will never fade.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul