The Confessions of a 90's Kid

We've Already Fell

I want to kiss you behind the bike shed;

though the plastic is clear, boys and their dirt have fogged it all

up,

they'll never see.

I wish to hold your hand in a crowd;

though it may be public, their voices are too loud for them to

hear,

they'll never know.

I dream to talk to you in your room;

though the door is wide open, the fear has taught us how to

hide,

they'll never catch us...

We've already fell.