Last night I had a poem stuck in my head
And I did nothing about it as I lay in my bed
It was about the golden days in Chicago ,
When we lived in that small apartment
And we were so happy.
I was tossing and turning
Trying to get it out of my mind
And all of those words I came up with, I soon left behind
I chose not to write about those wonderful days
That I romanticize, just a little
You have to romanticize everything
Just a little
That’s how you go on living
Someday I’ll go mad because I won’t remember
How cold it was when we moved in on September
How much joy I got from the fire escape
As it looked upon the downtown, so far away
You could hardly catch a glimpse
But with my cigarette lit
I was in heaven.
I was in pure heaven.