I saw you a year later;
you were thin and free and all new rave
flanked by kids with futures brave
I was looking tired and sad
I confessed I was tired and sad.
You laughed. You said you were glad.
Your friends didn’t like my shoes
they let on
they knew more about me
than i ever knew about you
I saw you a year after that;
you had graduated, gotten fat.
You were all debt and sweat and fresh regret.
I didn’t laugh at that.