An Old song

One day, we will retire our song.
It'll be too old and too restless.
One day, we will stop going to our favorite places.
You will accuse me of being too bold and reckless,
But that shouldn't matter.


Except for the first time ever,
I'll admit it,
And I'll watch your mouth fall half-open
With the realization that finally, you have won,
But in that same breath, you have just truly lost.