You say you got no use for moonlight,
But darling, that’s not true
Sometimes the moon is the only thing,
Keeping you company on long nights,
After the headline fails to feed you.
You claim you don’t need no sappy poetry,
But then how come you write it in your head,
Dreaming of Santa Fe?
Santa Fe was your love at first sight,
Dreaming of a future far away.
That is, until you saw her.
Sitting in the shadowed glow,
Of stage lights down beneath you.
Those things fly out of your head,
And you start anew.
‘Cause those things were stupid anyways.