Smoke-ring afternoon The sun in a sling Spinning All come to meet her On the record player Soundtracked suffering These were the days Of catapulting After dark Armored in angst In moonlit parks In a drunken blur We tattooed the words Of venus in furs
There’s a line you wrote A long time ago It goes something like this I wouldn’t mind dying at all If it weren’t for the songs I’d miss
Young and beautiful, in poverty Filming, blossoms falling From the cherry trees On pure ecstasy And as we sulked Like Russian spies Out after dark Deliberating Court and spark In a hail of broken glass You told me Nothing’s built to last
There’s a line you wrote A long time ago It goes something like this I wouldn’t mind dying at all If it weren’t for the songs I’d miss, oh Youth is wasted on the young, ohh Ohh oohh oh oh oh oh