Here's to the moments that are stolen
And stealing is certainly wrong,
But after those moments are stolen
To whom do they really belong?
For if my wife ne'er comes to claim them
And your husband ne're makes a fuss
Let's hold our heads up proudly
And say they belong to us.
For if you had bushels of apples,
And left them alone to rot.
And a neighbor came by and ate them
Would you blame him? Certainly not!
For apples were made to be eaten
And moments were made for delight.
And that's what we'll tell our conscience
If it keeps us awake at nights.
unpublicized words known only by me
I don't get it.
