| In front of the Alamo
|
| in the fading light of a Texas day
|
| San Antonio
|
| through the windshield of a Chevrolet
|
| With the front tyres pointed out of town
|
| she sighs, and rolls her window down
|
| counts to three and throws that wedding band
|
| In front of the Alamo
|
| that’s a pretty good place to make a stand
|
| In front of the Alamo
|
| where the cameras click and the tourists stare
|
| a long long time ago
|
| she met the man in question there
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| she wanted trust, she wanted truth
|
| two things he found hard to do
|
| So forever was shorter than she planned
|
| In front of the Alamo
|
| that’s a pretty good place to make a stand
|
| She didn’t come for inspiration,
|
| or to breathe the mighty dust of heroes lost
|
| She just felt the time was right
|
| at this random traffic light
|
| to say enough is enough and move on
|
| In front of the Alamo
|
| in the fading light of a Texas day
|
| San Antonio
|
| through the windshield of a Chevrolet
|
| Maybe something in the air
|
| makes the timid braver there
|
| To cross the line that they’ve drawn in the sand
|
| In front of the Alamo
|
| They held on, she lets go
|
| In front of the Alamo
|
| That’s a pretty good place to make a stand |