And it’s hard to write about being happy
Because the older I get
I find that happiness
is an extremely uneventful subject
And there would be no grand choirs to sing
No chorus could come in
about two people sitting doing nothing
But I must confess
I did it all for myself
I gathered you here
to hide from some vast unnameable fear
But the loneliness never left me
I always took it with me
But I can put it down
in the pleasure of your company
And there will be no grand choirs to sing
No chorus will come in
No ballad will be written
It will be entirely forgotten
And if tomorrow it’s all over
At least we had it for a moment
Oh darling, things seem so unstable
But for a moment we were able to be still
And there will be no grand choirs to sing
No chorus will come in
No ballad will be written
It will be entirely forgotten