When my hair's overgone and my memory fades and the crowds don't remember my name.

When my hands don't play the strings the same way.

I know you will still love me the same. cause I honey, your soul could never grow Oh, it's evergreen.

Two and a half grants.

Oh, no, no.

Yeah, it might be 400, something.

Thinking about how people fall in love in mysterious ways, and maybe it's all part of a plan.