When the Love is Gone

It's nearly 2 a.m.
I've driven this way from Sara's a thousand times
I pass the same patch of cows
While I'm hypnotized by the center lines
In Paris, I wonder if Pierre passes the Eiffel Tower
With the same feeling
While tourist trod up the Champs-Elysees
Mesmerized
He yawns wiping the coals from his eyes
There its nearly 9 a.m.
He's driven this way to Sara's a thousand times
He no longer is in awe of the Tower or Sara
She's become as routine as his drive
And as boring as my cows