They were born beautiful, so right away

They swore that they'd get themselves a house one day

And read to each other, despite all the others

That have passed through their back gates

They were both radiant, and far away

Living on a diet of romance and faith

'Til 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 is where their hopes are

Because it's not pretty

And if you had to watch a movie of it

I'm sure you'd both be horrified and bored

All the hope that gets shafted

To bet on the good life

For 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

You're left with so much wasted energy

So now to cold satellites that have crashed to earth:

Welcome home.