She was born through a photograph
Classy and shy; stuck in time
Her features were glossy and shined
In the night
A moment (a beauty) captured in print
Subtle in tint
Warm and utterly dashing
I wish to place my fingertips on her lips
Feel them sink slightly through
A burst of red
But they just slide
Artificial and fake
She's confused on common sense
I have no time to wait
(I have all the time in the world)
Fade
Fade in reverse
Someday I'll know what it's REALLY like
To never see her again.
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