You had blonde dreadlocks
and a scent of vanilla
Che Guevara in your jacket,
sweet little guerilla
You wore a third world cause
with a first class smile,
and when you felt lost
it was me that cried
In our teenage dreamstage
no applause, no heaven
I guess there was a scene change,
now we’re alone together
We lived Billboard heights,
had Broadway nights
I thought those eager days
would last all our lives
Hot breath on my window,
I don’t dare wipe it away
Like a fading moment,
a kiss becomes a stain
And the strain starts to show
in everything I do
Somehow I know the same pain
is burning in you
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