Feste

When I was in my salad days
All cold and green, I’d roll the hay
With anyone whose praise could make
A lost boy feel profound
And the flavor of my courtship then
Were stolen stanzas I pretended
I had coined, and not just cribbed
Off older, sadder clowns
But I was younger then
I hadn’t been around the track
Enough to know you can’t go back
Enough to know to take a chance
To take her hand, to ask to dance
Before the music ends
You showed up and slipped away
It seemed the rain rained every day
Somebody said “Son, get a job”
I bought a lute instead
And the flavor of my courtship then
Was rye and gin that I pretended
I uncorked to warm my throat
And not to calm my head
But I was younger then
I hadn’t been around the track
Enough to know you can’t go back
Enough to know to take a chance
To take her hand, to ask to dance
Before the music ends
The poets say youth won’t endure
Now what’s to come is all too sure
Somebody said they saw you
Back in town to grieve your dad
And the flavor of my courtship now
Are the songs I write, as if somehow
The next one might taste better
And bring back the chance we had
When I was younger and
I hadn’t been around the track
Enough to know you can’t go back
Enough to know to take a chance
To take her hand, to ask to dance
Before your music ends
This life could be our own
Come away, love away
To a place we’ve never known
I’d rather disappear with you
Than be here safe alone
As the distance comes and the darkness
This life could be our own
If you choose to make your living
In the bandstands, son, you’re giving up
The chance to go and dance with girls
With sad eyes and short hair
I’m not saying you’ll regret it
But if you don’t need this, let it go
I wish someone had told me
There’s a whole wide world out there