confetti floats away like dead leaves in the wagon's wake there were parties here in my honor til you sent me away and now silver moons belong to you i'm passing the baton from the old mare to the fawn it was out of line but it was fun, didn't you love the part right before the dawn? and now silver moons belong to you i'm off to the ballet and to practice all these ancient ways tell the new kids where i hid the wine, tell their fathers that i'm on my way, and say:
maybe these days are over, over now maybe these days are over, over now and i loved it better than anyone else you know and i believe in growing old with grace i believe she only loved my face i believe i acted like a child making faces at acquired tastes and now silver moons belong to you
and silver moons belong to you i'm off to the ballet and to practice all these ancient ways tell the new kids where i hid the wine, tell their fathers that i'm on my way, and say:
maybe these days are over, over now i think maybe these days are over, over now i believe in growing old with grace i believe she only loved my face and i think maybe these days are over, over now
gone are the days bonfires make me think of you looks like the prophecy came true you are a fallen tree, he is a fallen tree how old are you, no, how old are you?
under all the folds of your dresses that you wear there's an ocean and a tide and a riot in the square over are the days that the congas made your hair sway around to the cadence of your hey ho hey ho cheer
under all the folds of the dresses that you wear sway around to the cadence of your voice when you sang there