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I woke up in the backyard one afternoon;
you waited for me while I laced up my shoes. Hardly knew how to get our feet off the ground.
But now we're old and prouder than we should be; I hear you talking but I don't see the need, as you go around and tell the day we passed out (it's true.)
I pass your house when I walk home late at night, and I'd stop to say 'hi' but I'm not that polite. I don't know how we ended up in this town (it's true.)
Cause you know, it takes no time at all: just wait until tomorrow and you're gone. I'll try to make things better than they seem, but trust me, I know more than I may see.
I wish I could go back to sleep, and play this out like a scene: I would wake up in your attics, seven whiskeys deep but you don't live there anymore.
We lived across the street when we were kids, and as we grew old our mothers hoped we'd stay friends- it's funny how these things don't seem to work out (it's true.)
But I know it takes no time at all; just wait until tomorrow and you're gone. I'll try to make things better than they seem, but trust me I know more than I may see.