Pressing her lips to the mirror
A wistful look at her high school yearbook page
A painted face, she's the age

To give it all away

Who wouldn't want to be the class
Of 2012
You wouldn't want the be the last
In 2012

He bobby pins in the wind of his
Yellow convertible borrowed from a friend
His hand is on her thigh
She thought she'd die

Who wouldn't want to be the class
Of 2012
You wouldn't want the be the last
In 2012

Sipping soda and gossiping
Glitter stars littering the rusty stairs
She wanted fresh air, he wanted to play
Truth or dare
Fire rained from the sky that day
In 2012
Made a woman in the final blaze
Of 2012