Parking Ticket Letterhead

You adjusted your collar,

looked away from the lens

Said "gimme a second,

let's play make-believe"

Like some tourist who stumbled

right into the frame

And you laughed at the magic

we made on the street

But there's a bright yellow slip

on the windshield glass A parking fine under the wiper blades tight

Just a cheap-date devotion that's built to last

And we're laughing our way through the night (ooh-ooh-ooh)

We could pay off the ticket

or buy one more round

Of the cheapest house red

in this neon-free bar

You pose by the meter,

a self-conscious smile

As the headlights roll past us

and light up your heart

Just a parking ticket

in the frame

Under the wiper blade in the rain (mmmmm)