Stood beneath the station clock I wait, Make-up fixed as my nerves start to tremble. Apprehension inside growing as I watch the gate As the crowd for the next train assemble.
Eyes slowly move to the clock, quarter to eight. I wonder if the ad in the paper was right, And then hope that his train isn't too late. The letters exchanged, yet still I feel this fright.
'Pull yourself together, girl, it's only a date!' A brief hello at a nearby pizza bar. The letters it seemed this was our fate, He's just a boy, me a girl, we could go far.
Why worry if the need for love we sate? Oh, why can't it be easy to find the perfect mate?
No comments:
Post a Comment