when flesh candles we can't seem to hold
and oh how we know we've grown old,
when friends stop asking about your latest guitar,
and instead compliment you on your new BarBeQue
oh how we know we've grown old,
when the things we have come to love
can be counted on three fingers,
a thumb for babies
an index finger for pets
and a middle finger for drugs,
oh how we feel we've grown old
when sex has been replaced for hugs
and bathroom stalls are just for pissing
and the only thing that you are missing
is your hair
keep the kid (in you) alive
don't wish for slow days to pass you by
cause they will, and they will
and you'll grow older still
and time will speed its fidgety hands
and loud sounds of disco bands
will fade into your shattered memory
i think late is better than never
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