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