We were young and a pair of fools,
Who played hard, when we could,
Breaking all the known rules.
Frank was my close friend.
He became my best man.
We would go out to drink beer,
From bottles, not from a can.
Frank had a 47 Ford, Turtleback
And mine was a 47 Plymouth Coupe.
We would cruise through the 'Burg,
Around the block, doing a big loop.
We liked the noise of the cars
And would exchange our mufflers
With Smittys, glaspaks and
Were nice sounding with Echo cans.
We would cruise the town, like LeMans.
Noise from the Smittys were not crass
And when we cruised by the stores,
We could rattle the window glass.
Those were the days; no more to see
For most of my friends
Are now sweet history.

There were times, in years past,
when I wanted to be alone.
The changes now; being locked in place,
has created a great desire
to talk to someone, face to face.

Can you hate someone,
but still love your Brother?
Can you love someone
and still love another?
Can you change your life
into something very profound,
and not lose all your friends
by not uttering a sound?
An interesting question, don't you see,
for I am talking about
you and me.

What happens when your
mind starts to go?
When you no longer remember
all that you know
and everything in front
of you, has no name.
It's something you knew;
a simple instruction of put on
your slippers, when you arise,
is met with puzzlement and surprise.
When you look at a shirt on a chair
and say to me, "Is this it?"
At that moment, I have become aware
you know nothing of what I say.
So, I help you now to get
ready for another new day.