My father sits at night with no lights on
His cigarette glows in the dark.
The living room is still;
I walk by, no remark.
I tiptoe past the master bedroom where
My mother reads her magazines.
I hear her call sweet dreams,
But I forgot how to dream.
But you say it’s time we moved in together
And raised a family of our own, you and me —
Well, that’s the way I’ve always heard it should be:
You want to marry me, we’ll marry.
My friends from college they’re all married now;
They have their houses and their lawns.
They have their silent noons,
Tearful nights, angry dawns.
Their children hate them for the things they’re not;
They hate themselves for what they are-
And yet they drink, they laugh,
Close the wound, hide the scar.
But you say it’s time we moved in together
And raised a family of our own, you and me —
Well, that’s the way I’ve always heard it should be:
You want to marry me, we’ll marry.