| I was born
|
| As just another small town boy in '69
|
| I had only little worries on my mind
|
| The world seemed kind when I was young
|
| An endless gentle flow of days
|
| Not a lot in life seemed really serious
|
| As time moved on
|
| There were lots of things I had to learn
|
| Such as, if you want to take you’ve got to
|
| Give a little in return
|
| And though life seemed gentle still
|
| Somehow it got slightly more serious
|
| A winner, in our times, is someone
|
| Who sells his soul at the highest price
|
| To be a slave to profession
|
| Slave to the grind
|
| To whatever other master
|
| The test of time shows what we’re made of
|
| The test of time will reveal the truth
|
| The test of time will see us stay afloat or drown, win or lose
|
| All at once
|
| We look back on the best days of our lives
|
| Find out none of our teenage dreams hold water
|
| By the age of thirty-five
|
| Time’s not in endless supply
|
| And that’s why all in life is serious
|
| A winner, in our times, is someone
|
| Who sells his soul at the highest price
|
| To be a slave to profession
|
| Slave to the grind
|
| To whatever other master
|
| The test of time shows what we’re made of
|
| The test of time will reveal the truth
|
| The test of time will see us stay afloat or drown, win or lose
|
| The test of time tells how much we can carry
|
| The test of time will see us flex or break
|
| The test of time will show no mercy, time never waits |