I was almost the prom queen
In the back seat of a Pontiac on Rosemar Corner.
I pretended to listen to his troubles and thought about the universe.
His devotion was an exuse to be unresolved.

Our own summer sweat mingled with the Blood, Sweat, and Tears on the radio:
"I'm not scared of dyin' and I don't really care..."
I hatched a plan to keep myself from loving him
"All I ask of livin' is to have no chains on me..."
His gentle confidence was my rebellion.

Nearly lost in Midwest American dreams,
We named the red and yellow television constellations
As thousand of halogen lights twinkled in the clay-red river.