the day that she was married, i was there;
i played the music as she walked the aisle.
this girl i’d thought one day would be my bride
walked towards her fiancee with such a smile

as men would die or kill for – either one.
she needed music, i said i’d assist:
i wanted to be close to see it all
a sort of faux-romantic masochist

but after all was said and done that day,
i listened to an appalachian song;
and let die out the candles of the past
admitting she and i
had just been
wrong