Donu0027t take the following words as reverence for tradition
Iu0027ve learned to pick my battles by losing most Iu0027ve fought.
The more mores subverted, the more I sense Iu0027m missing
And Iu0027ll always do it my way, even if thatu0027s just the same way I was taught.

Iu0027ll bring home the bread and youu0027ll stay home and bake it
Weeding out the garden where the milestones gather moss
Crack a smile at my vows, and whisper “wow, can you believe we really made it?”
As I give up on dodging rice, and fold my cape, I say “obviously not.”

But I want to be just like my parents before I was born
Oh can we be just like my parents?

I know you donu0027t want kids but think about a daughter
We could name her Gwendolyn, like mom would have called me.
Iu0027m not sure yet myself, but I learned from a good father
Yeah, I mean sure, they messed me up. But I think thatu0027s just the gig.

And maybe itu0027s just some hormones that kick in in your late twenties
But I have laid a lot of women, and now Iu0027d like to just lay down
And marriage always scared me, but Iu0027d like to have a last love
And love can last a pretty good long while. Iu0027ve seen it around.

Oh, can we be just like my parents when I was young?
Why canu0027t we be just like my parents?

Tongue out of my cheek now, Iu0027m done pulling faces
Iconoclasm wanes. My cynicism tires
But what do I know bout forever when so far, Iu0027ve been so fleeting?
Babe, my frontal lobeu0027s done growing; this might just be how Iu0027m wired
But now weu0027re kissing before brushing, smile with our whole faces
If you want a hyphen last name I guess I donu0027t mind the cadence
Iu0027ve seen home videos. I was there back in the 80u0027s
And if Iu0027m just them and they back then could do it, why canu0027t I?

Just like my parents in due time
Imagine me, just like my parents? Yeah, right.

‘Cause Iu0027ve made more mistakes, than simple empty moments
Each one as out of character as you know I tend to be
Thereu0027ll be scalpers at the cemetery gates, with all my would-be widows weeping
Iu0027d have forgotten all their names, so why should you remember me?

But if we grow old together and you talk to my headstone,
That is, assuming that I die first, (which is fair) and assuming I donu0027t leave
Close enough to forever, I guess, to prove what I hoped.
I mean otherwise how am I to believe?