| The days grow longer for smaller prizes
|
| I feel a stranger to all surprises
|
| You can have them, I don’t want them
|
| I wear a different kind of garment
|
| In my rehearsals for retirement
|
| The lights are cold again, they dance below me
|
| I turn to old friends, they do not know me
|
| All except the beggar, he remembers
|
| That I put a penny down for payment
|
| In my rehearsals for retirement
|
| If I’d hav known the end would end in laughtr
|
| I’d tell my daughter it doesn’t matter
|
| The stage is tainted with empty voices
|
| The ladies painted, they have no choices
|
| Me, I take my colors from the stable
|
| They lie in tatters by the tournament
|
| In my rehearsals for retirement
|
| Where are the armies that killed a country
|
| And turned a strong man into a baby?
|
| Here comes the rabble, they are welcome
|
| I wait in anger and amusement
|
| In my rehearsals for retirement |