You know I'm afraid

To write a simple song

Not out of shape as you are

At being wrong

And the people we were

Are now dying in reverse

Are now having to work out the second part

The second part

Ripe as a fruit

That tired sunset's sighing

Slam down the pan

That used to be for frying

Now it's your mouthpiece

Your pipe and your reed

The line you keep

Between your anger and me

The thought of hurting me

Sometimes sets you free

Sets you free

You say you know

Every mole and skin tag

Like it makes you wiser to

The person I am

Well a man and his church

Always confusing people

There's no hill steeper

Than trying to get to equal

Trying to get to equal

And the people that we were

Make no promise of return

But appear every now and again

In candles and furniture

In movies and the way they hurt

Music and the way it stirs

Our fingers and alphabets

Ballerinas dancing up on those frets

Is this as good as it gets

When we get it right?