Just Another Folk Song?

I was just
a young troubadour,
slinging drinks
in Union Square
when she walked 
in the door. 

Our love rode
in on laundry songs, 
made us both feel,
for a brief moment in time
like we had some place
in which we belong. 

Fast forward a few years,
and that thing is long gone,
measured as memories
of the young and dumb,
but it was true love
as far as true love goes.

Sometimes I feel like
Billy the Kid,
still slinging guns,
but having less fun
than I was,
still trying to start a fire.