Anyone can trade good ideas for damage they think they need,
Ride fences like a steed, where are they going?
Like when a major city kneels down and whispers in your ear.
She could say, âletâs get another beer,â and youâd think, âDonât
forget the good parts.â
Donât forget the good parts, the way we do.
Anyone can take good ideas for damage they think they need,
Ride fences like a steed, where are they going?
Like you wearing your disappointment guised as nobility.
And Iâd offer empathy but its just reprehensible.
Ostensibly no more than a plea for her gaze and a ploy for being
bored and alone.
Donât forget the good parts.
Donât forget the good parts, the way we do.
Dancing through the bad parts even when they tell me lies.
Wool for both our eyes,
Stumbling between South Street and the moon.
And sheâd say, âWhat are all the bad parts?â
Well mostly the days that youâre not in.
And thereâs so fucking many.
Donât forget the good parts, the way we do.