She stole my daydreams
She stole my air guitar

Exterior. Man on lawn, alone at dawn.

Packed the typewriter And drove off in her car

A battered automobile drives past state line sign.

And now I know that I'll rue the day I let her get away

I need a haircut I've got myself to blame

A gloved hand spins a combination dial quickly
opening a large wall safe.

He wasn't so fine To my beginner's mind

Motel. The other man, severe, refined.

But with that big talk I should have seen the signs

Woman enters and they embrace. He packs duct tape, rope.

And right on her he was fixing his aim He pushed me out of frame

I need new head shots I've got myself to blame

She spins her ring to hide the diamond in her hand
and drops a gun into a small beaded purse.

Know the diff between a script and a spec It's a test, just the stage directions left And no camera angles to use, mm-hmm

A novice script may seem strange in this format But like any other business It's a standard that the writer gets used to, aw-huh

My scenes are cut out I'm just on speaker phone

For exposition I'm out here on my own

And as the night falls on this sleepy town The iris closes down

I missed my close-up I've got myself to blame I've got myself to blame I've got myself to blame