Late — Ben Folds

Under some dirty words on a dirty wall Eating takeout by myself I played the shows Got back in the van and put the Walkman on And you were playing

In some other dive a thousand miles away I played a thousand times before And like pathetic stars, the truck stops and the rock club walls I always knew You saw them too But you never will again

It's too late Don't you know It's been too late For a long time

Elliott, man, you played a fine guitar And some dirty basketball The songs you wrote Got me through a lot Just wanna tell you that

But it's too late It's too late No, don't you know it's been too late for a long time

Oh no Things were looking up Least that's what I heard Oh no Someone came and washed away your hard-earned Peace of mind

When desperate static beats the silence up A quiet truth to calm you down The songs you wrote Got me through a lot Just wanna tell you that

But it's too late It's too late No, don't you know It's been too late For a long time It's too late It's too late No, don't you know It's been too late For a long time