your pretty face again.
Some things are not real.
The past is fantasy.
I know that I won't feel
the warmth of your hand once more.
Life is as complicated as can be.
My heart's not made of steel.
I know that your tender smiles
have faded from my mind.
And no picture will ever do.
Distance is more than miles.
Pretty woman.
It is simply not meant to be.
But I will try to remember
as Orbison would sing:
"Mercy!"
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