No more tears, my heart is dry
I don't laugh and I don't cry
I don't think about you all the time
But when I do, I wonder why

You had to go out of my door
And leave just like you did before
I know I said that I was sure
But rich men can't imagine poor

One day baby, we'll be old
Oh baby we'll be old
And think of all the stories that we coulda told

Little me and little you
Kept doing all the things they do
They never really think it through
Like I can never think you're true

Here I go again – the blame,
the guilt, the pain, the hurt, the shame.
The founding fathers of our plane
that's stuck in heavy clouds of rain.

One day baby, we'll be old
oh baby we'll be old
and think of all the stories that we coulda told