There's never much to say between the moments ofnOur games and reparteenThere's never much to read betweeen the lines ofnWhat we need and what we'll takenThere's never much to talk about or say aloud,nBut say it anywaynOf holidays and yesterdays, and broken dreamsnThat somehow slipped awaynIn books and magazines on how to be and what to seenWhile you are beingnBefore and after photographs teach how to passnFrom reaching to believingnWe live beyond our means on other people's dreamsnAnd that's succeedingnBetween the lines of photographs I've seen the past --nIt isn't pleasingnnSo strike another matchnWe'll have another cup of winenAnd dance until the evening's deadnOf too much song and timenThere's never much to speak aboutnOr read between the linesnOf what we dream aboutnWhen we're apartnAnd no one's looking onnTo say you're minennIt was a good year then, it was a good year then,nWe all remembernThe time you threw the looking glass and seemed a foolnOr very clevernDon't spoil it all, I can't recall a time when you werenStruck without an answernWe'll live a quiet peaceful time between the linesnAnd go togethernnAnd I'm striking up the band to play our last hurrahnWe'll dance until we've killed another evening offnDon't think of anyone but menI'll have no lovers on the sidenTonight is all we've ever dreamed aboutnFor once let's get it rightnWe'll go down flying in the endnThrough another bottle in between the linesnI'll go down like a ship of statenLet's be gracious nownBetween the lines