Paroles: Fiery Furnaces (The). Rehearsing My Choir. We Wrote Letters Everyday.

Well, no one was too upset.
You know we were married in the war,
and I went with him to Pennsylvania and California.
But he went out the Pacific,
and I came back to Chicago to work on the railroad.

And we wrote letters every day,
which were later thrown away.
And God knows what we wrote or what they said,
but this is probably how they read.

I left the letters behind,
in the basement of the apartment building when we moved,
for the mice to nibble on.
I wonder how long they lasted.

And we wrote letters every day,
which were later thrown away.
And God knows what we wrote or what they said,
but this is probably how they read.

Now, at my wedding, my husband didn't have his close family there,
as I indicated.
He came from a family of priests,
at least, there were a lot of priests in his family.
And so, 8 priests presided over our wedding.
8 priests! It looked impressive.
But it didn't sound very good.

A gaggle of priests.
Or they were like crows around an overly ornate park bench up there.
They all had fine voices,
but - and I mean this respectfully -
they didn't match pitch.

Thinking that each one of them was the one in the right.
So they made some strange note choices.

Listen...