Text: Catherine Feeny. Old Friend.

Well you sold your last great pair of shoes
I heard you got rid of all of them.
And you say that you don't get the blues
No more
I bet you never will again.

And you don't play that old guitar
You don't need to
And when I see you, I ask you
"What's your name?"
Cuz I don't know you
And I don't want to
You don't want it either, do you?

Well you look like just what the doctor ordered
Yeah, I bet you make your mother proud.

But you know, I never liked your mother.
So you'll understand if I don't approve of the way that you've turned out.

Well you packaged up your dreams,
Wrapped it up in tinfoil.
And you got rid of that piece of junk,
Cuz it always needed work.

Years gone by, I've watched you fly away
Like a balloon.
You floated away, so beautiful
But you're right back where you started.
Tell me
Who got ahold of you?

Cuz you look like just what the doctor ordered.
Yeah, I bet you make your mother proud.

Are you allowed to play the songs you used to?
Well you know you used to play them very well.

And I know that it's got nothing to do with you,
But I sometimes think I miss my old friend...

(Thanks to SarahJames for these lyrics)