I wanted to write this song about love,
a song about you, but what could I do?
And when I start I'd stop trying
and I start crying
knowing that my love won't do.
Ever since you sent that
photograph faded in the sun,
an out-of-focus picture blurred by the sun.
Now everybody's talking about us
making a fuss
about who's doing who.
But when I'm done writing this
song and it won't be long then
you will know.
But the past is a photograph
and I want to take a picture of it,
a time-lapsed exposure of some
fireworks in summer.
