We get old
But we still ride waves
Like a poem grabs us
With the darkest shades
Sometimes up, sometimes down
Just a turnaround
Our hopes never fade
Life's such an escapade
I'm counting the days
Patterns and shapes
Take me back
To the soft fields of youth
To the distant hills of sun
My soul to soothe
Now days are hard
And dreary and cold
Tightrope-walking
Ain't no fun at all
I'm counting the days
Patterns and shapes
