So after we’ve said we’ll write, I compare souvenirs
I see I’ve ended up petrified, both in conviction and years
I knew we were similar
OK, I’m a child and yes, a bit rough
And over-familiar
With a temperament only a mother could love
You’ve got your memories
I’ll get my stuff
All my innuendos, every double entendre
You’ve stopped ignoring them, albeit ‘cos you’ve gone
It’s like Foghorn Leghorn says
I don’t need your love to keep me warm
I have my bandages
They’re the most comforting things that I’ve worn
You’ve got your memories
I’ll always have corn
So then I awaken and I turn on the light
I know you letting me know you wasn’t done out of spite
But it could have been different
From all of the conventional friendships I’ve found
But I am diffident and sensible
Keeping cloud nine on the ground
How could I have ever thought
Our ships would crash in the night?
And you’ve got your memories to cushion you
Hard and they’re real and they’re yours
I’ve just got fantasies
My cushion is never as real as it seems
You’ve got your memories, I’ve got my dreams
You’ve got your memories, I’ve got my dreams
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