Corn and mozzerlla sticks,
Oh how that means greatness to me.
A meal with special memories.

Across the table we would lean
And a gentle kiss we would
Share.

Young we were, when we got our food
And amongst us were the old.
They would stare and smile, wishing they were young again.

And though this doesn't make much sense, but the love we had
And the love we lost, could never be renewed
Although I wish it wasn't true.

Our arms were intertwined
And the food was in our hands.
Shoving the sweet delicious pie 
Into each others mouths.

Brushing the hair out of my face
And hugging me so close.
You kept me warm

And the night was over