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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required That fickle lady, Time, is treading lightly Through the landscape of my life, Neither caring nor noticing How much of me survives She rests her hand on my shoulder, And whispers in my ear: "No need to fret for future cares, For its just another year." Just another year run through my hands, Just another year. Just another shifting of the sands, Just another year. And I look in the mirror and laugh at myself; At the Boy struggling up through the grey. And I try to leave the bottle up on its shelf And to joke all the dark thoughts away. And that ladyghost whispers again To banish my doubts and my fear, That it can't be helped; it all runs together Into just -another- year. Just another year run through my hands, Just another year. Just another shifting of the sands, Just another year. But the days look different and the nights grow colder When you look back to find that you're just that much older And the shadow that followed when you first learned to crawl Is now looming behind you on every bare wall And the kids that you ran with now help you to stand And the boys that you joked with now see an old man And the girls that you chased now know its all right To tuck you in softly and turn out the light In the end... In the end What you need is a friend. But the Lady never leaves, Tells me everything's just fine As she snickers up her sleeves And tempts me with more wine. She puts her hand upon my shoulder, And kisses away the tears. No point in fighting anyway - It's just another year. Just another year run through my hands, Just another year. Just another shifting of the sands, Just another year.
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