You may tire of me as our December sun is setting because I'm not who I used to be
No longer easy on the eyes but these wrinkles masterfully disguise
The youthful boy below who turned your way and saw
Something he was not looking for: both a beginning and an end
But now he lives inside someone he does not recognize
When he catches his reflection on accident
Thursday, 13 September 2007
Friday, 7 September 2007
Sound familiar?
You’re pink you’re young you’re middle-class
they say it doesn’t matter
Fifteen blue shirts and womanly hands
you’re shooting up the ladder
Your mind is racing like a pro, now
Oh my god it doesn’t mean a lot to you
One time you were a glowing young ruffian
Oh my god it was a million years ago
they say it doesn’t matter
Fifteen blue shirts and womanly hands
you’re shooting up the ladder
Your mind is racing like a pro, now
Oh my god it doesn’t mean a lot to you
One time you were a glowing young ruffian
Oh my god it was a million years ago
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