This Moody Bastard Walter Becker

Little friend of mine
Can you still recall
Our salad days
Between the ivy walls?
Beneath the autumn sun?
When all is said and done
We were a good combination
We were good clean fun
Still my thoughts roll back
Every now and then
Think about you
Remembering
I start in smiling and
I just can't stop
You on the bottom
Me on top

These days it's like a tomb
Amid in the stacks of gloom
Looking out the window
In the downstairs room
And the time goes by
And the time goes by
Sometimes it goes so slowly
You know a man could cry
Till the day goes down
In deep disgrace
With empty pockets
And a dirty face
And then the day boils over
And there's nothing there
But a roomful of smoke and a lot of hot air