Becky's playing a piece by on her old piano She's been playing since her childhood, "too to recall..." But the that fall from her fingertips, are the same She played she could barely sit still, back in `69, the keys made her hands look small
And she built her around symphonies and concertos Around traveling the country, and playing the halls Four later the dreams been reduced to "what-if" scenarios But hey, to never is to have never lived at all Never at all
Dave's a lawyer in the city of chicago And for fifteen years, he's had his to the old grindstone Poured his in the bank to feed the beast called portfolio Well, if time is money then is a life alone
You can look out at the skyline for forgiveness you invest in love, the same will be returned He has prided on a lifetime of spoken directness It took him forty years to hear the lesson Has he lived at all? Never at all...
Never at all
The great american sits on top of peter's kitchen table 300 pages on a town he inside of his head He signs the cover page, uncorks the with the dusty label Pours his wife a glass, she says "baby, bring the to bed"
At 6 am out fighting the cars on the freeway And his manuscript, has he written his own downfall? But he'll embrace rejection, he'll kiss the of each envelope to live in hope than to never have lived at all To live at all live at all