It was mad-cap, and impromptu
We needed something to belong to.
To be determined for our own thing
While we're still young, only eighteen.
"Let's start our own scene, the G.Q.B.C.
Keep our head's strong and our mind's free!"
Remember how we dressed up in our best clothes
Singing old songs that we don't know
Drinking cheap wine on the weekends
We were the masters of the pretense.
I recall that we were best friends,
And it lasted 'til the school end. And we said;
"Fine form and grace on our side,
We're going to make this the moment of our lives!"
We were the free scene, G.Q.B.C.
We're gonna make them think we're something.
We never really took things seriously,
But what we did feel mattered greatly.
We were high class in our own eyes,
Outcasts in a new guise
And I recall that they were great times,
In our smart suits and our thin ties, we cried;
"Fine form and grace on our side,
We're going to make this the moment of our lives!"
We said with great verve and with great pride
"We'll dress the same way in ten years time!"
But the sad thing, we were so right,
And now the old clothes just don't fit right.
Now they're too short, and they're too tight.
We look like throw-backs to a past life, a sad sight.
Fine form and grace left behind,
What became of the moment of our lives?