We ran out of matches before it was time to strike
We're rubbing sticks together hoping this might turn out right
But all the smoke signals spell the wrong words
And the flame just won't burn bright
Like it did last night
I tied you into the laces of my shoes
And just ran, ran, ran, not knowing what else to do
Pinned you on my shirt in an effort to keep you close
But you squirmed out, right under my nose
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