B.P.

Warm summer nights on a friend's front porch, people you meet , through ones you've always known,

With a sunflower dress and a look, a smile, that just says yes to a friendship that must be grown.

Speaking of things, most wouldn't like, not knowing much of who you are or the mess your life has seen, going on a moonlit ride, with no intended end ,that takes you to the ocean where peace has always been.

( Chorus)

Now she's known as " backpack", she's wrapped around tight, with a grip that shows no fear or fright,

That's my pack, here by my side, no matter my actions... Wrong or right.

Before anything is known, you're walking the sand, watching the rolling tide, just her with just me, a night possibly meant to be

still too early to know, where these waves of time may see us go, but I'll navigate this ride, with her at my back, or right by my side.

(Chorus)

Because now she'll always be backpack, she's wrapped around tight, with a grip that shows no fear or fright. That's my pack, here by my side, no matter my actions... Wrong or right.

Don't hold on too tight pack, instead rest assured that as long as we ride the days and nights, you'll be secure, and can remain without fright.

Backpack you're a find, no matter someone else's or mine, know I'll always appreciate that warm summer nights find...