| I met her at a bar where I often sit down
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| And have myself a drink
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| She played my favorite song
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| Before I had time to think
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| So I bought her a round and she pounded it down
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| Let out a laugh like a freight train
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| We exchanged small talk
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| Doesn’t it feel that way?
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| She said…
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| «You and I we’re two of a kind, not afraid to dream»
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| «We could be, the next big thing»
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| She told me her roommate was gone for the weekend
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| Borrowed her car and took off with her boyfriend
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| They’d be married soon
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| Was it December or June?
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| She was an artist with a two bedroom apartment
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| Her dad kept her going on a weekly allowance
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| She’d be graduating soon
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| Was it December or June?
|
| She said…
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| «You and I we’re two of a kind, not afraid to dream»
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| «We could be, the next big thing»
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| So I bought her one more
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| And she stared at the door
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| Watching the parade moving out and in
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| She made fun of their clothes
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| She said that I could never be one of those
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| And I thought to myself you’re just like everybody else
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| Standing at the station, but missing the train |
| I turned to catch her expression
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| She walked back over to me
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| And I said…
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| «You and I we’re two of a kind, not afraid to dream»
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| «We coulda been, the next big thing»
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| The Next Big Thing (repeat x3) |