Pressing her lips to the mirror A wistful look at her high school yearbook page A painted face, she's the age To give it all away Who wouldn't want to be the class Of 2012 You wouldn't want the be the last In 2012
He bobby pins in the wind of his Yellow convertible borrowed from a friend His hand is on her thigh She thought she'd die Sipping soda and gossiping
Glitter stars littering the rusty stairs She wanted fresh air, he wanted to play Truth or dare Fire rained from the sky that day In 2012 Made a woman in the final blaze Of 2012
