And so, the constellations move on a wire across an empty room. And your eyes reflecting chemicals that we loved back in the golden days. You went to school and studied astronomy in your spare time and got into a new scene. And I hung around down at the pharmacy forgetting everything I’d learned. Chorus: (Oh, no) The music’s almost (gone) and I’ve waited for so (long) and I can’t wait to get back to the golden days. Bridge: We listened to NPR and I talked about becoming a liberal and I would play guitar as you learned about being cynical. Counting the stars that lit up the Memphis sky on our way down to the ticket line. In this smoke-filled room the show never starts on time but these, these are the golden days. (Oh, no) The music’s almost (gone) and I’ve waited for so (long) and I’m so glad that these, these are the golden days. *The parts in parentheses are harmonies in case you were wondering.