I can just imagine walking up and down the coast, holding hands with Cohen and Kembry, him in his little shorts and sunglasses, her in her little sundress and sun hate (her favorite.) Oh, where's Brett you say? Well, he's sailing out on the sea, catching whatever fish swim in the sea...who knows. Or maybe he's picking me some fresh flowers on the hillside. That would be nice too.
And here's the little pathway we'll take walking back to our little white cottage with the picket fence and the yelping hound. We'll sit on the front porch drinking lemonade and swinging on the old wooden swing...
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