The beggars on the street are my age now.
As I grow old I travel through the crowd
That girl with guitar open, she could be me.
That boy with a nintendo and gum in his hair
That's who I could used to be
And the bankers with ties and suits and hollow stares aren't so old
any more
Holding a child, losing a father
That homeless boy with the grizzled hair
That homeless boy with the grizzled hair
He's so young, or am I--
Not so long till I smile at your wrinkles
Saying age is a bitch, it's hell getting old.
Losing the privilege of offering a seat
Gaining a seat
My world will be full of toddlers one day
Who won't understand when it ends.