When this summertime ends, we will not part as friends,
Things were promised in blood; we have sinned.
Now there's tears in her eyes as she's screaming goodbyes,
I run 'long side the car turning numb to the sound.

Innocence didn't mean we're immune to these things,
Let's blame the passage of time.
Love and loss, truth it costs more than I can spare right now.
Maybe it's simpler to lie...

-Ron Pope