| Well they told you that your life begins at forty
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| Well you know that’s partly true… but mostly lies
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| And then they all come around to wish you a happy mild-stone
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| You just smile at them through the tear drops… in your eyes
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| Now you relate more to your parents then your children
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| Why your free spirit sits in shackles in it’s cage
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| And you tell them all your fine
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| You don’t worry about the passing of time
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| Mean while you’re looking for the fountain of middle age
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| All the work you done finally start to pay off
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| Some of your dreams at last are come’n home
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| You and the wife have found some understanding
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| And your nestled deep into that comfort zone
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| Aye you wear old jeans and you bought a new corvette
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| And you wish your life would stand still at this stage
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| But when you look back on your youth
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| You know it slaps you with the truth
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| You’re just looking for the fountain of middle age
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| Ohh you don’t want to be any younger
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| Not unless you could know then what you know now
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| Noo you don’t want to get any older
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| You just want to stay in limbo somehow
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| Well you heard them say. |
| you ain’t gonna take it with ya
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| It’s enough to send a sane man into a rage
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| You could leave it to the kids
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| Or you can spend it all right here
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| On looking for the fountain of middle age
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| Now if you find that secret Jack. |
| you be sure to call me back
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| We’re all looking for the fountain of middle age |