Hey, wouldn't it be lovely
If we could set down our books
And sing to the sky
Like lunatics in the early dawn
I'm seventeen and I still can't talk
You forgot how to walk
And scraped your knee on the blacktop
I need a haircut;
Something simple that would leave it
Short on the sides and longer on the top
So I could style it back and realize my
Mirror-driven destiny
Hey, wouldn't it be great
If we could walk away and never look back
Like you knew how to walk
And I could still talk