illusionist

She's always this illusionist
Even that's speculating too much
If you try to find her
She'll be slightly out of touch

If anyone could read her
I'd think it would be you
She might not be femme fatale
She's neither sane nor true

At some point everyone's faced
This same fork in our way:
Waste the time never repent
Or love who's here today

Don't look now; she's gone again
I think I can finally learn
That the fun's in chasing which
We'll never get a turn