I’m older yes wiser but somehow more fragile than before. I’ve got more questions than answers, no resolve in mind.
I’m not the man they expect me to be, I’m not the man I knew before. The growing pains of maturity, where do I fit amongst the cosmos?
My pleasures are tainted for the oppressed and suffering, the thought alone can sometimes leave me puzzling.
The decree of western life has got me bogged in despair, humanity at times seems beyond repair.
I’m working for holidays to give me a breather, no time for anything I’ve lost my demeanour.
No hope for me, I won’t sing on T.V! I once was a singer, now it seems like a glimmer.
I can’t sleep sometimes for guilt and regret, I’m sorry to those who once gave me the best.
I miss my mum, where did you go? I hope your resting somewhere, but nobody knows.