If I want to smile, I think of you.
And when I see you, it starts all over again.
The out-of-style blue jeans to the junk pile
you called your room.

From the part in you hair to the holes in your shoes,
The skinned-up knees, the fishing pole
that was never put away.
If I want to smile, I think of you.

Yes, the moment I laid eyes on you,
I knew I would never be the same. You took my heart
and made it all worthwhile; I would do it all over again
because when I see you, you make me smile.

Copyright^© 2002 Linda R. Forsee