Merry Old Soul

The old soul isn’t the same of King Cole’s The old soul is the growing indifference Past obediences turn to resistance Which the merry old soul never shows The old soul is a room of the old sorrows A portrait gallery of the passed away The old soul is a candle that burns night and day The old soul doesn’t speak of tomorrows But the thing is that nobody really cares So does the old soul in its turn It’s a parallel world of nobody’s concern You won’t notice when you will get there.