And the metal mouth fell for the bottle-blonde,
Because neither of them could have the real thing.
No one asked,
So the real thing walked on by.
And it's too bad,
Because your face makes me dream.
Not your real face,
Just the one they've straightened for you.
Just the one I've dreamed up for you.
Pieced together from broken nights,
Puzzled out.
I want to tell you something,
I want you to know it all.
Not the real you,
The one I see in my head.
Please remember my name.
Don't try to forget.
Please think of it and laugh.
If my name could make you smile,
I would run all the miles
To your front door,
Just to meet a face I'd never seen before.
I would run to the real thing.
I would reach there before I knew,
And pretend my dreams of you were true.