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
