Cold years
A saturday night jack-the-lad in a pointless fight, a charade
In a moment of weakness
Writes a letter he'll never send to a woman who used to be a friend
Time made the changes
Funny how it goes, strange I suppose
With the thought of another, she gave him a rose
Somewhere in his room a souvenier, a plastic box with letters he got
And pictures of Paris a night on the town is never enough to take away
All the scars that he carries
He still hears her laughing, like ghostly echoes
His memory burns what the years took away.
CHORUS:
And he will ride these changes
Arrive here clear and holy
Why these changes, tell me where did you go in the cold years?
In the back of a car in Italy, a pretty girl who's a woman now
Awash with déja vu
Touches a moment lovingly and the past is written as heavenly
In all loves illusions
Funny how it goes
A swollen river flows
So muscular and free
Going back to an ocean
CHORUS:
And she will ride these changes
Arrive here clear and holy
Why these changes, tell me where did you go in the cold years?
They will ride these changes
Arrive here clear and so holy
Why these changes
Why, why, tell me why these changes Arrives hear clean and holy Why these
Changes Tell me why oh why
Why these changes
Arrive here clear and so holy
Why these changes
Tell me where did you go in the cold years
Oh tell me why these changes tell me why these why these changes
Oh tell me why these changes
Why tell me why
Please tell me why these why these changes
Why why oh why tell me why