Friends (Live At Carnegie Hall / 11/17/2014)

As pretty as a song
A song could ever be
Like Christmas on a river
Without a boat or Christmas tree

This afternoon with you was something like a letter
The kind that someone writes but never sends
And when you look at me like that
It reminds me that someday it's gonna end
And when you get old
I bet you miss your friends

As angry as a breeze
Tugging hard upon the sails
I've been moving through these streets forever
From Baltimore to Amsterdam

These things inside me they repeat like broken records
Spinning pretty somethings behind my eyes
And when I can't look at you
I can paint your picture perfectly in my mind
And when I get old
Gonna miss you all the time

That wind up in the trees
Scattering bluebirds all over the place
Shuffling children in the piles of leaves
I wish I was the wind, I'd touch your face

This afternoon with you was something like a letter
The kind that someone writes but never sends
And when you're good to me
It makes me blue because someday it's gonna end

And when we pass on
Bet you miss your friends