Yearbook

I've got a homeroom in my heart
 A lesson plan I should have started once
 But never did, grade incomplete
 I've got your yearbook in my head
 It's filled with words I never said
 Handwriting legible but none too neat
 What can I do?
 Pictures of you
 Keep making me turn back pages
 To redefine
 These moments in time
 But what does it matter anyway?
 A Precious Moments figurine
 Shoplifted porno magazines
 Each frozen memory tastes bittersweet
 Just like the night of our fist kiss
 The fleeting glimpse of future bliss
 Turned out to be the class that I won't repeat
 What can I do?
 Pictures of you
 Keep making me turn back pages
 To redefine
 These moments in time
 But what does it matter anyway?
 Each snapshot comes with it's own
 Caché of conflictin' feelings
 Four years of public wounds
 Which probably won't end up healin'
 Administered by teacher
 Principal and guidance counselor
 It almost makes me wish
 I had the sense to stay the hell out
 Now what can I do?
 Pictures of you
 Keep making me turn back pages
 To redefine
 These moments in time
 But what does it matter anyway?
 And what can I do?
 Pictures of you
 Keep making me turn back pages
 To redefine
 These moments in time
 That I'll probably never understand