Old Me
Old me, is that you?
Well I'll be damned.
If I could, you know I'd shake your hand.
Sit with you? No thanks, I'd rather stand,
Old me.
Cigarette? No thanks, I quit
seven long years since filter tip
lay there quivering on my lip
can't say that I'm missing it,
Old me.
Still nursing that cold can of beer?
I sank a few of them when I sat here
watched a world go by that held no sense of fear
and laughter was the only source of tears
Old me.
You're looking lean, wiry and fairly fit,
hair just starting to thin a little bit.
Yeah, I know my waist from where you sit
is more Frank Cannon than Brad Pitt
Old me.
Say, who right now's your latest fling?
Oh, her? Nice girl. Yes, I've got a ring.
Hindsight's such a wonderful thing,
no, not what I was imagining,
Old me.
Those plans you made, soon to begin?
Life's challenges you'd take on and always win?
See, by your bench, that litter bin?
Well, screw them up and chuck the whole lot in,
Old me.
Off you go and happily skate along
until the ice of youth melts and is gone
for I'll tell you now, where I've come from
you don't know what you're taking on,
Old me.
Though my future lies in wait for only you,
and all that I know you will surely do,
sometimes with all that I've been through
I desperately wish that I was you.
Hold me.
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