Disposable like memories,
Pictures I'm afraid to see.
I'll drop them in and hang my head,
Repeating the last words she said—
“Get older and then get over me.”
Developing you,
Bringing you back to me now,
Proving the girl that got away from me somehow.
They're all that I have of you.
I can't bear to look
At all the stacks of photo-books,
But now to add to the lost ones means
I'll have to open them again.
She's leaving it all behind,
But that's what she really wants.
She knows that she's
The girl that got away from me somehow.

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