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