S. Hurley
I see pride I see sorrow
The young hard college grad in his flat brown leisure shoes
He's gained his field's respect, but late at night he thinks of her
He left her in his college dust
The deep lined party girl's trim figure hides the truth
She had a fun decade, but now it seems that fun's reward
Is loneliness stored in a box with a wedding dress
People walk up, people walk down
They don't hear me, I don't make a sound
They fix their watches, they fix their hair
They fixed my wagon because i still care
I see problems I see questions
The former football star in his priceless college sweats
He lived for four short years and with each month
The weeks grow longer, the drinks grow stronger
As his past slowly floats away
The often tired young wife with two kids and her hair tied up
Her coffee reflects a face, once full of grace
That questions the love, the causes of
The prison in her own home
Why do I care '
Why do I cry '
When their actions like needles draw blood from my eye
I'm one of them
They're one of me
I can't watch them suffer, but I can't set them free