Becky's a piece 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 she could barely sit still, back in `69, When the keys made her hands look
And she built her dream around symphonies and Around traveling the country, and playing the music Four kids later the been reduced to "what-if" scenarios But hey, to dream is to have never lived at all Never at all
Dave's a lawyer in the city of chicago And for fifteen years, had his nose to the old grindstone Poured his money in the bank to feed the called portfolio Well, if time is then success is a life alone
You can out at the skyline for some forgiveness When you invest in love, the same will be He has prided on a lifetime of spoken directness It him forty years to hear the lesson learned Has he lived at all? 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 Pours his wife a glass, she says "baby, bring the to bed"
At 6 am he's out fighting the cars on the And fighting his manuscript, has he written his own But he'll embrace rejection, kiss the seal of each envelope to live in hope than to never have lived at all To live at all Never at all