Standing here, waiting for my youth to re-appear
It forsakes me more each passing year
And what it leaves more quickly disappears
And I’m having trouble to admit I can’t control my fate
All I can do is stand on line and wait.
Standing here, my kids tell me that my brain is bare
Finding it harder just to breathe the air
And there are fewer times I seem to care.
And I see you and say Hey! Who are you to tell me I can’t stay?
Why should it always have to end this way?
Standing here, the mirror tells me that my time is near
And so I turn away, but I still hear
The voices telling me I should prepare.
And I recognize that no one’s offering to negotiate
I’m on my way, but I sure hope I’m late.