Brighton Ma Let's Be Friends Again
Where do I begin,
Let’s pick up our violins,
Baby let’s be friends again,
Play that age-old serenade,
A mournful ode,
To all the ideas we slay,
As we lay in bed all day,
As you turned your head,
To the flowers you said,
“Would I could press you all to my heart.”
We were both just playing our part,
Mapping out the lover’s march,
It was death right from the start.
Came barreling out,
Of painful obscurity,
Filled with humility,
Just looking out.
War wounds will heal,
We said we’d know if this was real,
Or perhaps a bit contrived,
We’ve been paid to take a dive.
You gotta find your own way to feel
Your way through this life.
