Beautiful Things
When I first met Zach we were kids at band camp, hiding in the woods.
He was singing Sondheim, I was writing songs no one thought were good.
Except for Zach - Zach heard something different.
Zach heard what I meant.
The songs were immature
But he was sure
What was in my head.
Zach said:
"I’ve got good taste.
I like good music.
I don’t know if you knew, but I practice perfect listening.
Maybe not today or overnight
But I’m certain if you want to
You will write beautiful things."
You see when Zach finds the thing that's perfect, he knows right away.
He knows that belters are the best kind of singers
And he knows Friday’s has the best chicken fingers.
Zach just knows, he always knows.
He's one step ahead.
But something new began
When Zach met Dan.
He turned beet red.
Zach said:
"He’s got good taste.
He likes good music.
Next to me, Dan is shy but he does do perfect listening.
If the chicken’s fried,
He orders two.
And he’s perfect, and he thinks that I can do beautiful things."
Standing strong and holding steady
Two boys clinging always.
You go first and set the standard
Happy and secure
So sure.
So here we are. At this perfect evening. On this perfect day.
We stand here awestruck by the words two men with certainty can say.
And as for me, I make no decisions. Zach picked out this tie.
And so with humble pride,
I'm unqualified
To give to our young hosts
My toast:
Here’s to good taste.
Here’s to good music.
I think we all could learn how to do more perfect listening.
To Zach and Dan:
A cut above.
You teach the morons all around you
How to love beautiful things.
And I love you, and I wish you evermore beautiful things.
