Dave sits by the pool,
And he smokes a hundred cigarettes every day.
He probably thinks I’m a fool,
Because I never understand a thing that he’ll say to me.
Dave doesn’t bother me,
He just sits in the corner till five.
Sometimes he’s grandfatherly,
When he tells me about Vietnam and of how he survived.
Dave, why do your hands shake?
Do you need another cigarette break?
What makes your heart ache?
How much more of all this shit can you take?
Dave’s wife never nags,
Because he says he’ll give up cigarettes every day.
And she probably brags,
Cause she forgets he tells her every time the exact same way.
Dave doesn’t lie to her,
He just hates when he makes her upset.
Sometimes I still cry for her,
When he tells me about her dementia and how she forgets.
Dave, why do your hands shake?
Do you need another cigarette break?
What makes your heart ache?
How much more of all this shit can you take?
And as the years go by,
I still think about Dave and his wife.
And after my tears have all dried,
I’ll still think about Dave and his love for the rest of my life.
Dave, why do your hands shake?
Do you need another cigarette break?
What makes your heart ache?
How much more of all this shit can you take?