I do not see black or white.
I see the man, in the light.
I do not know him inside out,
But it's still him I dream about.
When I look at him, i smile.
I haven't felt like this for a while.
When I'm with him I feel so good,
Does it really matter if he's from the hood?
Why do people care if our skins not the same?
I think we'd make a pretty picture, in a pretty little frame.
He could be my boy and I'd be his girl,
and everyone would accept us in a perfect world.
