Most people you’d tell “I’m gonna be a musician,” they’d say, “you’re crazy, you’re gonna starve, you’re gonna be poor, a drug addict, go to jail, you’ll never make it, there’s too much competition.
So before we end And then begin We’ll drink a toast to how it’s been A few more hours to be complete A few more nights on satin sheets A few more times that I can say, I’ve loved these days.
