My father sits at night with no lights on.
His cigarette glows in the dark.
The living room is still;
I walk by, no remark.
I tiptoe past the master bedroom where
My mother reads a magazine.
I hear her call, "Sweet dreams."
But I forgot how to dream.
But you say it's time we moved in together
And raised a family of our own, you and me.
Well, that's the way I've always heard it should be,
Do you want to marry me? We'll marry.
My friends from college, they're all married now.
They have their houses and their lawns.
They have their silent noons,
Tearful nights, angry dawns.
Their children for the things they're not.
They hate themselves for what they are.
And yet they drink, they laugh,
Close the wound, hide the scar.
But you say it's time we moved in together
And raised a family of our own, you and me.
Well, that's the way I've always heard it should be,
Do you want to marry me? We'll marry.
You say that we can keep our love alive.
Babe, all I know is what I see.
The couples cling and claw
And drown in love's debris.
You say we'll soar like two birds through the clouds,
But soon you'll cage me on
your shelf.
I'll never learn to be just me first,
By myself.
But you say it's time we moved in together
And raised a family of our own, you and me.
Well, that's the way I've always heard it should be,
Do you want to marry me? We'll marry.