They were born beautiful, so right away   They swore that they'd get themselves a house one day   And read to each other, despite all the others   That have passed through their back gates   They were both radiant, and far away   Living on a diet of romance and faith   'Til history crept in and wouldn't leave them   It's a classless kind of fate   It holds its ground in the way that death just makes you wait   New fears to edit   The cutting room floor is where their hopes are   Because it's not pretty   And if you had to watch a movie of it   I'm sure you'd both be horrified and bored   All the hope that gets shafted   To bet on the good life   For all the granite etched in   They may as well have been man and wife   All the fits he'd throw   Feeling her anger grow   It never gets found, lost in used to be's   You're left with so much wasted energy   So now to cold satellites that have crashed to earth:   Welcome home.