And your laughter fills the till.
Are the nights I cherish most.
And a ring for the clown.
And a shoulder for the down.
And all with a view.
And a breaker of falls.
And you forget what we had.
When your smiles become stares.
When you’re empty and still.
With no empty to fill.
For you are my butter and my bread.
You’re where they’ll find me dead.
But it’s forever you and me.