The Old Parade

So I wept
As I sat there drinking
The church bells ringing
The rain was singing in a way

Then I crept
Down those streets of sorrow
With pain I'd borrowed
From a writer playing games with his heart

Alone in the dark
The times we would dance
To a jukebox left stranded outside the old parade
Those times they don't last
In a torn photograph
Your memory will live on the walls of the old parade

Then I saw
Your ghost-like figure
In the bathroom mirror
The kids doing lines in the back

By the door
With a pint of bitter
This nervous singer
Sings lines that take me away

Alone in the dark
The times we would dance
To a jukebox left stranded outside the old parade
Those times they don't last
In a torn photograph
Your memory will live on the walls of the old parade