Beirut - Postcards From Italy Lyrics
The times we hadOh, when the wind would blow with rain and snowWere not all badWe put our feet just where they hadHad to go, never to goThe shattered soulFollowing close but nearly twice as slowIn my good timesThere were always golden rocks to throwAt those whoThose who admit defeat too lateThose were our times, those were our timesAnd I will love to see that dayThat day is mineWhen she will marry me outsideWith the willow treesAnd play the songs we madeThey made me soAnd I would love to see that dayHer day was mine