She can't remember the last time she wore mascara, for fear of the trail it would leave on her face. As she runs the brush through her top lashes, it makes her smile. She feels a little like herself again. Another coat and the smile lingers.
A knock on the door. A familiar face. A taxi. A country band.
Dance it out.
She isn't looking for Mr. Right, or Mr. Right Now.
She's looking for herself. Someone she lost long ago.
Don't be frightened. Dance it out.
A knock on the door. A familiar face. A taxi. A country band.
Dance it out.
She isn't looking for Mr. Right, or Mr. Right Now.
She's looking for herself. Someone she lost long ago.
Don't be frightened. Dance it out.