Peyton

Before my fame, I only thought of you, and how we slaved, shadows rise in blue smoke, contain an awful truth, how come we're broke, you always hated waste, played many successful tunes, maybe it was that other age, longing for a happy home, stare at club split rooms, feel stripped to the bone, inside classy cafe's, we could have bloomed, danced them night and day, I'd control simple notes, you could saxajoe smooth, comfort those all alone, how to begin again, such lonely terrible news, what fuelled our dreams, was it those you blew ?