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