He mumbles to him, fumbles the meaning
Down at the tent of fragile and clinging
To life as the light of a streetlight in ember
Shines on the features he's trying to hide
He stumbles and he stutters and stares at the shutters
They're green as the wisdom he tries to reclaim
All of the meaning the moment is fleeting
He wrestles his terror and boldly he says
Are you like me?
Are you; I mean
Do you like me as more than a friend?
Silence is torture to boys on a porch
Watching rocking chairs rocked by the ghost of the wind
There's a look in his eye and its blank
Like when men walk the plank
Only one step to go and there's no way it's safe
Now he's holding his face and slowly approaching
He starts retreating, it's a pause just in case
Then the other he dives into the deep end
And deepens the reasons they'll remember the day
So he likes him
Now they are We
Clearly they are more than friends
5 years down the road, about 20 years old
And they both wear a ring as an honest promise
Then late one evening while walking on home
And talking to love on a cellular phone
4 men approach him with chains and a pipe
They scream epitaphs cause he wont put up a fight
2 weeks in a coma before he succumbs
To the injuries suffered under warm April sun
See he loved him
And they were We
Why couldn't they leave them alone?
Some hes like hes
Some shes like shes
Why can't we all leave them alone?
Artist: Andrew Bird
Artist: Sheryl Crow
Artist: Keith Whitley