Instruments
Ensembles
Opera
Composers
Performers

Lyrics: Ben Folds. Late.

Under some dirty words on a dirty wall
Eating takeout by myself
I played the shows
Got back in the van and put the Walkman on
And you were playing

In some other dive a thousand miles away
I played a thousand times before
And like pathetic stars, the truck stops and the rock club walls
I always knew
You saw them too
But you never will again

It's too late
Don't you know
It's been too late
For a long time

Elliott, man, you played a fine guitar
And some dirty basketball
The songs you wrote
Got me through a lot
Just wanna tell you that

But it's too late
It's too late
No, don't you know
it's been too late
for a long time

Oh no
Things were looking up
Least that's what I heard
Oh no
Someone came and washed away your hard-earned
Peace of mind

When desperate static beats the silence up
A quiet truth to calm you down
The songs you wrote
Got me through a lot
Just wanna tell you that

But it's too late
It's too late
No, don't you know
It's been too late
For a long time
It's too late
It's too late
No, don't you know
It's been too late
For a long time