Becky's playing a piece by Gershwin on her old piano 
She's been playing since her childhood, "Too long to recall..."
but the chords that fall from her fingertips, are the same 
she played when she could barely sit still, back in `69,
when the keys made her hands look small 

And she built her dream around symphonies and concertos 
around traveling the country, and playing the music halls 
four kids later the dreams been reduced to "what-if" scenarios 
but hey, to never dream is to have never lived at all 
Never lived at all 

Dave's a corporate lawyer in the city of Chicago 
and for fifteen years, he's had his nose to the old grindstone 
poured his money in the bank to feed the beast called portfolio 
Well, if time is money then success is a life alone 

You can look out at the skyline for some forgiveness 
When you invest in love, the same will be returned 
He has prided himself on a lifetime of spoken directness 
It took him forty years to hear the lesson learned 
Has he never lived at all?
Never lived at all... 

Never lived at all 

The great American novel sits on top of Peter's kitchen table 
300 pages on a town he built inside of his head 
He signs the cover page, uncorks the bottle with the dusty label 
pours his wife a glass, she says "Baby, bring the bottle to bed" 

At 6 AM he's out fighting the cars on the freeway 
and fighting his manuscript, has he written his own downfall?
But he'll embrace rejection, he'll kiss the seal of each envelope 
Better to live in hope than to never have lived at all 
To never live at all 
Never live at all