An old school doesn’t mean sending pigeons on my window,
Every morning with a written letter.
You can text me good morning whenever you are awake.
In the winter snow, you can bring me chocolates filled with liquor love,
And a cost sweater of yours, I could wear,
Whenever I feel cold or out of love.
I am an old school and it means I love listening to songs,
So send me your playlist so I could listen,
dedicating myself to every melody or yours.
Wherever we see each other in our city market,
Smile looking at me, my day will light up with your lightning.