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There was a pool table there at the wedding |
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That most of the men stood and played |
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Whilst the women danced in their melancholy |
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Till the last record started to fade |
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And as D.J. turned the lights up |
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And packed his records away |
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He noticed a lonely figure still there |
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So quietly turned to say |
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Tears you thought lasted a lifetime |
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Won't last too much more than a day |
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And you'll prove that you still have your strength left |
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When you wipe those tears well away, well away |
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Roses in garden bring joy to the bleak |
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Lilies save wretched from worse |
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Music lifts up those too weary to speak |
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So, sister you sing the next verse |
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The path in life that you have taken |
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I can figure out just from your frown |
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Either it's down the up escalator |
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Or maybe sometimes up the down |
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And you may not feel that you have travelled |
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But sure as hell been across town |
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And certainly if story unravelled |
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You've lost more than you ever found |
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One thing's for certain I've travelled |
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And a not too dissimilar route |
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Those ups and downs and rounds after rounds |
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You're wearing them just like a suit, like a suit |
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So if roses bring joy to the bleak |
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Lilies save wretched from worse |
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Music lifts up those too weary to speak |
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Then D.J. I'll take the next verse |
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So sister judge strength not by muscle |
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Or weight that your body can lift |
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But by heavyweight heart that you carry |
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That no other young woman could shift |
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Hey Mr D.J. a special request |
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Play that last record for me |
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And make it as long and as painfully sad |
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As any slow ballad could be |
