They were born beautiful, so right away, they swore they
could get themselves a house
someday and read to each
other despite all the others
that had passed through their
back gates, they were both
radiant and far away, living
on a diet of romance and
faith until history crept in
and wouldn't leave them. It's
a classless kind of fate, it holds its ground in the way
that death just makes you
wait. New fears to edit the
cutting room floor where
their hopes are. Cause its
not pretty and if you had to
watch a movie of it I'm sure
you'd both be horrified,
horrified and bored. All the
hopes that get shafted, to
bet on the good life, with
all the granite etched in
they may as well have been
man and wife, all the fits
he'd throw, feeling her anger
grow, it never gets found
lost in used to be's and
you're left with so much
wasted energy, So now to cold
satellites that have crashed
to earth, welcome home
