Toad The Wet Sprocket

Solitaire, such a fateful game
She turns her cards and writes her name on the napkin
Mow she turns another card
She dreams about the house and romance
He promised but wont deliver
She waits alone
With dried out hopes
And dormant phone
She waits for years
And fantasies melt
New ones appear
But they wont help
And again she catches him
Eye pulls away with light too dim
She calls his name and runs around