In Old Hollywood, proud and gray
All of the ghosts gathered round the TV
We can argue all that you like
We can argue until we fight
But the loser may have been right
Glamorous, black and white
Zoning out, most the night
Why do we end up imitating
All the ones that we once were hating
Men are clumsy, violent fools
Women are a delicate pool of flowers and cobras
Short story long
I put it in a song
Because being quiet can sometimes be more powerful than being right
You could try it
We can argue all that you like
We can argue until we fight
But the loser may have been right