Our love ran out or maybe it was on the rocks,
now we're here trapped behind these locks,
virus time, stuck with each other in quarantine,
man, I think this is like some long terrible dream.

So I go to the fridge and grab a couple beers,
try and make the best, hand her one and say cheers,
looks at me and rolls her eyes and slowly hands it back,
I start to get mad but realize I'm not under attack.

I run back to the kitchen, for the opener and a lime,
like I said, we're stuck together, try and pass the time,
come back and open it, she says thanks with a smile,
I haven't seen one of those in many moons and miles.

Switch on some music for a change of attitude
put it on Luke Combs, to set the drinking mood,
we sit in silence, beers empty, I offer her one more,
she bobs her head to the tune and says why not, sure.

Hand her another, but I can't read her like a book,
still as beautiful as always, but I had forgotten to look,
George Strait shuffles on, "The Fireman" he sings,
my mind begins to run, turning over things.

I stand up and ask her to dance,
I figure what the hell I'll take a chance,
we're stuck here, maybe we can fix this mess,
she hesitates but makes her move in love's game of chess.

We dance around through several songs,
not sure why we let this go so long,
I hand her another Corona since we have the time,
she smiles at me and laughs, and says can I have a lime.