An elder man told me once,
That when loves gets, what time don’t want,
like feelings, like meanings, like tortures and textures,
you’re sentenced, young man. Whatever...

Said life is quite like a dice,
To keep it rolling, doubles price.
It can’t be considered a game without ending
If we all have a fate.
My good old man times have changed,
I’m still a young bird, in my cage,
And too many things go round my head
The same old damn things round my head, man!
And you call on me, so you know,
What words pass me by,
God calls on me, just to show,
Though I’m tired and incomplete,
I ain’t getting old.
And the symptoms come, the symptoms go,
You hear death knocking hard on your door,
You better look good, you better be counted in.
The symptoms come, the symptoms go,
Don’t try to predict past moments of your life,
Cause this one is mine.
Heaven ought to know,
That I ain’t getting old!
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