i really can't remember when the morning wasn't bare
the aftershock of drinks and talk where every thought was shared
where neon lights were burning bright and lighting up the bar
my eyes were squinting from the glare while pickles filled a jar
the workers there all danced for coin while we searched for the truth
but all we really knew for sure was we had lost our youth
and all that really left us with were comforts we had earned
the laughter from the local youths we both now mocked and spurned
but knew that it would do no good to tell them what we know
about the season of your life when frigid winds will blow
and surgery may enhance looks and dye jobs hide your age
but none of these can stop the heart from turning the last page
now i don't miss the ways of youth at least how mine was spent
but i miss youthful energy and all the strength it lent
but i think life's great irony in all that's lost and found
is as the body fades with age the mind does not gain ground
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