| Old man in a rocking chair
 | 
| You wake up, you’ve been living alone
 | 
| After all these years
 | 
| Surrounded by these shards of mirrors
 | 
| And how’d it get so quiet here?
 | 
| You wonder, «Where did everyone go?»
 | 
| You tried so hard to make people remember you for something that you were not
 | 
| And if they so remember you then something else will certainly get forgotten
 | 
| Life is for the living
 | 
| I’ve heard tell that it is why we are young
 | 
| In the morning sun
 | 
| You take every year as it comes
 | 
| But when your life is over
 | 
| All those years fold up like an accordion
 | 
| They collapse just like a broken lung
 | 
| Now I’ve only got one organ left and this old bag of bones
 | 
| It is failing me
 | 
| I try to tell people that I’m dying only they don’t believe me
 | 
| They say, «We're all dying,» that we’re all dying
 | 
| But if you are dying, why aren’t you scared?
 | 
| Why aren’t you scared like i’m scared?
 | 
| I read somewhere that when you face eternity, you’ll face it alone
 | 
| Not matter what you thought or what you had or you had not
 | 
| Unless you put yourself in God
 | 
| But tell me, God, oh where did you go?
 | 
| Every bitter night into an empty room, I plead my case
 | 
| Every night I pray that in the morning when I wake
 | 
| I’ll be in a familiar place and I’ll find that I’m recovered and I’m sane
 | 
| And I’ll remember everything
 | 
| I’ll remember what I was like before that bug bit me
 | 
| And when I have my childhood back
 | 
| I’ll tear every page out of my book
 | 
| And place them in an urn
 | 
| And strike a match and watch them burn
 | 
| Then I’ll hold the front cover
 | 
| Against the back cover and look
 | 
| You’ll see
 | 
| Eternity will smile on me |