The last time I saw Richard was Detroit in '68
And he told me all romantic meet the same fate
someday
Cynical and drunk and boring someone in some dark
café
''You laugh,'' he said, ''You think you're
immune,
Go look at your eyes, they're full of moon
You like roses and kisses and pretty men to tell
you
All those pretty lies, pretty lies
When you gonna realize they're only pretty lies
Only pretty lies, just pretty lies"
