We Are The City
Friends Hurt
My home videos won't mean a thing in fifty years
That day will come and all I've done we'll render forgotten
Old VHS tapes, the broken arm and the baby
My first bike ride when my dad told me he wouldn't let go of the seat
VHS videos, "Here he is, the man of my dreams"
Now those tapes, that meant everything to me, aren't even fit for a yard sale
It hurts
When friends are hurting
And my friends are hurting
Look below the surface, do you see the spawning salmon?
Unaware or, well aware, they're living and dying
Feel the money magic, the forest like a couch
Can you forget those days of vast daring, lone poplar five dollar bills?
It hurts
When friends are hurting
Now my friends are hurting It hurts
When friends are hurting
And my friend is hurting It hurts
When friends are hurting
It hurts
When friends are hurting
And my friend is hurting
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