The world is my oyster

I liked that way, crazy and wild. Caramel eyes and cinnamon dreams, and all those plans about California. I'm a kid playing football at 9pm in the afternoon, waiting for the sun to shine forever. I remember me, trying to steal some minutes from my watch, setting it back, like that way I could beat time. What a crazy idea. But it worked for me, it was like, somehow, I had the power to decide I wanted to keep on playing, no matter what. Even when my mum was shouting from the balcony, even then, I still could own the moment. No one was taking it away from me. It was my time, it was my playground, it was my world. I still like it that way, crazy and wild. My brown eyes and my cereal dreams, and all those plans about New York and California. In my head, I own everything. If I want it bad enough I can fucking have it. Whatever, the world is my oyster.