Yesterday was really

A remarkable affair

Now it's chalked up for the archives

Rolled up on the racks

 

She kept her eyes on the prize

And the stars in her stare 

Stole another state-line

Now there's blood on the tracks

 

The trouble with Love is when we're 

Trying to find the meaning of

With both eyes looking over our shoulder

We'll write the script then feel like

Ripping up what we're part of

or filing it away in a folder

 

Jumping in with both feet

and all hands down

Makes for a special occasion

 

When you're flat on your face 

and the past comes around

to nail you like an alien invasion

 

She carries the sky and throws her

caution out into the wind 

Lives with a reckless abandon 

I'm hard pressed to guess what's hiding

in the corner of her grin

As she pretends that it never really happened