Where is the hopeless
in hopeless romantic
where’s the despair
in choosing to care?

Here’s to romance
here’s to love
here’s to long summer dates
and getting in late
and pink clouds above.

My father once told me
on a summer night like this
about convertibles
and pretty girls
and drive-in movies.

He’d pop open the glove box
and resting there
a fragrant white gardenia
just for her hair.

What’s wrong with that?
I think not a thing
it’s the queen’s royal jelly
before all the stings.
It’s what you’ll remember
when you’re 80 years old
and a soft summer evening
sparkles like gold.

So here’s to romance
here’s to love
here’s to swimming on summer nights
being serenaded by bugs.

A night bird might sing
a sweet haunting song
that says hey, just enjoy
you’re not here for long.

Hey, just enjoy
you’re not here for long.