Oxen, Otown, and Delilah

I remember as a child, lying in my bed, which was directly beneath a single window in the back of the house, and listening to the traffic pass by on Greenfield St. We lived near a hospital, and the sirens from ambulances shortly became my evening lullaby. I would have my sony walkman resting on my stomach, and headphones leading to my ears. Delilah became my therapist. I would snuggle up to my baby blue body pillow, covered with clouds, and hum a long to O-town's All Or Nothing, as I stared up at the poster of Orlando Bloom taped to my ceiling. Those were the nights I wondered if I would marry the cute boy I met at my "Working With Oxen" class at Greenfield village. Yes, I learned to work with oxen. Yes, I was home schooled. Those were the nights I would debate wearing my Peace Frogs t-shirt the next day, or the new navy blue one that said OBEY ME on the front in hot pink plastic script. Those were the nights that I hold dear to my heart. Those were the nights that formed a part of who I am. 

PS. 

Yes, itunes, I am sure I want to buy All Or Nothing, by OTown.