i had no idea for tomorrow to come so soon
been waging my wars singing my tunes
been turning heads, bending spoons
i think a cake is in order, something to celebrate
maybe the death of one, perhaps the birth of two
oh to the twisted tongue, oh to me and you
how about if we just start over again today
and then maybe my words will fit what I say
in little brown hats, leading the way
i think it’s a perfect time for a bottle of wine
for spelling it out in black and white
empty the ashtray, ease your mind
don’t think the night isn’t going to come to day
don’t wager your breath on words you won’t say
for even in death they will have their way
i think we should play some music that old time way
oh to lilt into joy, sigh the size of a wave
for what wilts when employed, should twice be saved