When John Laurens met Alexander Hamilton at his local bar, his life changed. Blue jeans, white shirt Walked into the room, you know you make my eyes burn It was like James Dean, for sure. You're so fresh to death and sick as cancer. You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hop But you fit me better than my favorite sweater, and I know, That love is mean, and love hurts But I still remember the day we met in December