Blues for Absent Friends

When twenty years had gone the musketeers were reunited
for one adventure, after which their fellowship divided.
Porthos was a hero, Athos had a dream
D'Artagnan was a soldier, Aramis had a scheme.

Oh Lord, we carried on and on for years
just like the musketeers
just like the musketeers.

We give too much into the care of strangely absent friends
as if we don't remember how the story always ends:
Porthos under stone, D'Artagnan on a mission
Athos of a broken heart, Aramis in suspicion.

Oh Lord, it seems we're victims of the years
just like the musketeers
just like the musketeers.

It's age and time that make the world a place of solemn strangers
and habit killed the hearts that had defied a thousand dangers.
Porthos never changed, but Aramis was colder
D'Artagnan soldiered on while Athos just got older.

Oh Lord, deliver us from endless years
just like the musketeers
just like the musketeers.

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