| No Bogart, no Bergman, no Brando
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| No more Hemingway, no Hesse — the art ingrained in our marrow
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| So in retrospect does it not seem, that we lament the grace of greats as we do
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| our youthful dreams?
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| But in nuance, we are capable of our own renaissance
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| A respiring anachronism to animate us And as long as we sing, we can stay young like this
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| And we can
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| Reinvent the world, like we used to, screaming
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| Years will wilt and I will mourn
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| I will decay until my body fades away
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| But my kindnesses are eternal (I am infinite, I will remain)
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| The years will wilt and I will mourn but
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| You’re as beautiful as the day you were born, and that’s true (You're still
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| here)
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| No Lennon, no Cash or Sinatra
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| No more Morrison, no Jackson — all with whom we were brought up And so it seems I’m here interminably
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| Like I’m sewing all my stitches in lieu of my seeds
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| Like I’m grasping to sand in a salubrious sea
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| Youth slip faster through fingers, the harder I squeeze
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| And then I doubt if I’ll love anything
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| The way I loved those songs when I was seventeen
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| Reinvent the world, like we used to, screaming
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| Years will wilt and I will mourn
|
| I will decay until my body fades away
|
| But my kindnesses are eternal (I am infinite, I will remain)
|
| The years will wilt and I will mourn but
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| You’re as beautiful as the day you were born, and that’s true
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| (You're still here)
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| Friends raise you as much as family
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| (And I believe) this way, youth is sustained eternally
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| (And I believe) love is the only currency
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| And I believe, love is all that defines me I now believe that time will increase your worth
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| That you’re as beautiful, as the day you were born
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| The truth is — we’re all scared, we’re all unprepared
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| But together we stand — look to your right, to your left
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| And breathe
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| (Still here with me, still here with me, still here with me)
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| You’re still here with me So were we born and raised to be the same?
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| No, no We are not the same and there is no one way
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| We are each unique but we are equal
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| It’s your brush, your canvas and easel
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| Everyone must pave their own way
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| We have to change, we have to change
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| And if we don’t we’ll suffocate
|
| Reinvent the world, like we used to, screaming
|
| Years will wilt and I will mourn
|
| I will decay until my body fades away
|
| But my kindnesses are eternal (I am infinite, I will remain)
|
| The years will wilt and I will mourn but
|
| You’re as beautiful as the day you were born, and that’s true (You're still
|
| here)
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| You’re as beautiful as the day you were born, you’re you |