Becky's playing a by gershwin on her old piano been playing since her childhood, "too long to recall..." But the chords fall from her fingertips, are the same She played she could barely sit still, back in `69, When the made her hands look small
And she built her dream around symphonies and Around the country, and playing 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 years, he's had his nose to the old grindstone Poured his money in the bank to feed the called portfolio Well, if time is money then success is a life
You can look out at the skyline for some When you invest in love, the will be returned He has prided himself on a lifetime of directness It took him years to hear the lesson learned Has he lived at all? lived at all...
Never at all
The great american novel sits on top of kitchen table 300 on a town he built inside of his head He signs the page, uncorks 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 his manuscript, has he written his own downfall? But he'll embrace rejection, he'll kiss the seal of each Better to live in hope to never have lived at all To live at all Never at all