She dreamed of Bruce Springsteen at night
But woke to a screen with no sound, no light
Time rolled on like a runaway train
She stood at the station, lost in the rain

The records were scratched, the cassettes were gone
A photo without a frame lingered on
Between Madonna and love that lied
She watched her idols get paperfied

Now it’s just longing for things that missed
Youth trapped in a frame that time has kissed
She aimed for the stars, found a TV role
But lost herself in a script with no soul

The rebel years of ‘eighty-four
Turned into debts and an empty drawer
Modern love came fast, then fled
Too cold to warm the fire she bled

She dreamed of a future that smelled like a song
Of vinyl and verses that played all night long
But plastic and metal were all she'd get
Faded hair, old dreams unmet

Now she dances in halls made of memory and mist
With steps that forget the song they once kissed
She wanted a fight, got bills instead
And silence that sings in her heart and her head