Not so much autobiographical as aspirational
© 1998 Steven E. Cutts (ASCAP)
recorded in early-March 2000 at Bias Studios (recorded and mixed by Jim Robeson)
on All Alone . . . But Hardly On My Own (available for purchase at iTunes, et al.)
Steve and Darren Defoore, lead vocals
Paul Bell, acoustic & electric guitars
John Lewis, electric bass
Robbie Magruder, drums
Casey O’Neal, pedal steel guitar
Bill Starks, piano
We got married just a month out of high school. Our parents said, "You're just being young fools!"
Folks said we'd never last, but we would not be denied.
I gave you just a slim gold band; you slipped a tiny diamond on my hand;
But even our wedding rings didn’t look like they would stand up to the test of time.
We wear two gold rings; they were scratched but were never broken.
Well-worn reminders, silent tokens of a love that is deep but is rarely spoken.
We wear two gold rings locked around two hearts.
Those first few years our love burned bright. We worked hard every day then snuggled close at night,
And we thought things would always be like they were there at the start.
But as years went by the routines changed: the kids were born and some bills had to go unpaid.
It began to feel back then like we’d become two ships passing in the dark.
We wear two gold rings . . .
I would stare at my ring and think the gold had worn thin
When I’d sit alone at the bar and dream as those pretty young girls walked in.
And I would wonder when I’d get annoyed
Whether things would be any different if I’d fallen in love with another boy.
Before we knew it all the kids were grown; the two of us retired and spent more time at home,
And we found to our surprise that our old love had never died.
There was lots of laughter -- there were tears -- when our friends and family celebrated fifty years.
They raised a glass to toast our friendship which had stood up to the test of time.
When the day comes for one of us to pass away, we’ll be holding one another’s hand,
And we’ll both feel proud knowing we can say: We wear two gold rings . . .