I've been kissing a man with yellow teeth,
the neighbors frown when they see his car in the driveway.
They called the police on us, saying it was a crime.

I woke up in a metal room with fluorescent lights,
screaming, "What's my crime? where's that love of mine?"
They answered with screaming lights in my face,

"We hear you've been eating cold toast!"

Walking down the stairs with a Jello stuffed bra.
My sister told me it was a good fashion choice,
all the men smiled, and so did the women.

I went to the coffee shop, and ordered juice.
The waitress looked at me, then sat down.
Complained about how her fingers bled,
how she never applied for the job,
and about her weak knees.

She cried enough to relieve my thirst.

If I knew
That tomorrow would not come
And I only had today
I would want to spend each moment
That I had left
Right here with you

If I had to choose
To forget everything and everyone
I have ever known, except for one
I would choose
To remember only you

If I had to pick one place
To be the last place I could ever be
I would choose your arms
To hold me tenderly

Yesterday you were but a dream I had
Tomorrow you came true
Today I have to find a way
Tomorrow to undo

Such a love I knew we would be
What a great love we were
Today I have to find a way to change it all
And make tomorrow not occur

If I could go back into my yesterday
And not find my way to you
Then tomorrow would not be at all
And I would not love you

All lovely things will have an ending,
All lovely things will fade and die,
And youth, that's now so bravely spending,
Will beg a penny by and by.

Fine ladies soon are all forgotten,
And goldenrod is dust when dead,
The sweetest flesh and flowers are rotten
And cobwebs tent the brightest head.

Come back, true love! Sweet youth, return!-
But time goes on, and will, unheeding,
Though hands will reach, and eyes will yearn,
And the wild days set true hearts bleeding.

Come back, true love! Sweet youth, remain!-
But goldenrod and daisies wither,
And over them blows autumn rain,
They pass, they pass, and know not whither.

My land is bare of chattering folk;
  The clouds are low along the ridges,
And sweet's the air with curly smoke
  From all my burning bridges.