It’s ten till two. Our sweet dance is nearly over.
In your arms I’ve been swept to a world dreams away
but, both of us have golden bands on our left hands.
Our spouses had decided to leave us alone.
We’ve had a four hour romance. I fell like you
but, we’ll go home with others. What else can we do?

It’s ten till two and the band’s playing their last song.
I was completely enveloped in your looks, charm.
As night slipped around us we, we were under a spell
exchanging kisses as if somehow unaware
that we were bound to others who were sitting there.
Did they drink to remember or drink in regret?

It’s ten till two when we step apart, parting dreams
that changes were on the horizon for us both.
Perhaps we escaped boredom with such innocence--
flirting little bits while knowing it couldn’t be.
If we had been single we both would probably
have consented to romance quite possibly

. . . at ten till two.