When you think Sam Cooke,
I hope you think our song.
The one I listened all day long,
when I needed you,
and you were gone.
When you think blossom trees,
I hope you think about kissing underneath.
Think of my head on your chest
and your too coloured Niké's.
When you hear tinkling bracelets,
I hope you think of me.
- made by me -
Niek,
I hope you think of me.