CC: David Archuleta
Dear Ms Swift:
I don’t care if you wear sea shells or door bells, please get out of my head now. I mean, I’m not allowed to listen to you, you’re not even indie or anything, you’re Taylor Swift. Please put down your guitar, you Major Record Company Whore, and let me listen to cats screech for four minutes.
PS. im in ur closet wering ur tshurts