*****
And the time to put my first love first
Will once again appear--
For this too is reality, these four days a year;
I'll make this very clear,
That this too is reality, these four days a year.
Oh, what could be more real than to jam on strings and drums,
To find a common language sung through hurdy-gurdies' hums?
I have sung and sat with tablas
For old trophies and new shirts,
Munched fajitas near the Fountain, watching cloggers' flying skirts.
(Chorus)
From quiet desperation this has been my soul's retreat;
We dance in time to Cajun bands,
And shop for brooms of wheat.
And these crowds that brave those other crowds
Feel just like me, perhaps,
For this dream brought to reality
With buttons on our caps.
(Chorus)
To put the music first in life,
Most call pure fantasy:
But it's come to life this time each year
For a quarter-century.
So welcome to the real world,
Is it not a wondrous site--
And our nine-to-five illusions
Just went out the door tonight.
And the time to put our first love first
Will once again appear--
For this too is reality, these four days a year;
Let's make this very clear:
That the time to put our first love first
Will once again appear--
For this too is reality, these four days a year,
I'll make this very clear,
That this too is reality, these four days a year.
*****
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