Tossing the Polaroid onto the kitchen counter:
Wait one minute for full exposure.
You sit and wait to see the image
Of two people, arms intertwined,
Sitting on the floor laughing,
Waiting one minute for full exposure.

She was the stunning brunette who watched his garage band,
Where local kids walked by to sway to the music
And drop pocket change into an open guitar case.
He noticed her one night and followed her home
Where she let him in and offered him coffee,
And they sat on the floor and talked of music.

He was the guy who took away her razorblades
And showed the damage they could do on his palm,
Holding his hand while she retrieved a bandage.
She cleaned his wound with salty tears
And they sat on the living room floor laughing,
Setting up a Polaroid camera so they wouldn't forget.

Her mother smiled when finding the picture in the morning,
Who is this nice young man you're with?
And she gazed at the fully developed picture
Where they sat and laughed with no worries at all,
And the bandage on his hand invisible behind his back,
Hiding the wounds and making everything all right.