We’ll correct collegiate mistakes,
A shower of formal ideals,
Completely soused, The hearts on our sleeves,
As they drowned we could hear them screaming,
«Oh what a tragic way to see our final days.»
I attempt to talk up the town:
«The answers are in the arches of the 20th Century Towers and in
comfortable cars in motion.»
And yet it still remains, this incessant refrain:
«You’re just like the rest. Your restlessness
makes you lazy.»
Keeping busy is just wasting time and I’ve wasted what little he gave me.
(All Around) I know the conscious choice was crystal clear,
too clear the slate of former years:
When I sang softly in your ear and tied these arms around you.