Friends

As pretty as a song

A song could ever be

Like Christmas on a river

Without a boat or Christmas tree

This afternoon with you was something like a letter

The kind that someone writes but never sends

And when you look at me like that

I know that someday it's goanna end

And when you go

I bet you miss your friends



As angry as a breeze

Tugging hard upon the sails

Been moving through these streets forever

From Baltimore to Amsterdam

These things inside me they repeat like broken records

Spinning pretty something's behind my eyes

and when I can't look at you

I can paint your picture perfectly in my mind

and when I get old

I'm goanna miss you all the time



That wind up in the trees

Scattering bluebirds all over the place

Shuffling children and piles of leaves

I wish I was the wind, I'd touch your face

This afternoon with you was something like a letter

The kind that someone writes but never sends

And when your good to me

It makes me blue because someday it's goanna end

And when we pass on

I bet you miss your friends

Bet you miss your friends

I bet you miss your friends