your eyes were singing to her like they have the answers. that smile crept on your face, one liar, two dancers, caught in a trance, no longer known as romance, that begs and pleads for one more chance.

you watched him tip his hat to some other brunettes. the room was dark and cold, a scent of cigarettes, caught in a trance, no longer known as romance, that begs and pleads for one more chance.