A time of truth encompassing the winds of change
sometimes it remains the same
there is no help for a dog with mange
laughable it may seem for a teenager with a dream
youth has an expendable strength to rule the world
though in our hearts, we were all a little green
golden summer days exhibiting muscle and rage
spectacles of love arrive with the joys of spring
‘the young don’t know they’re born’
the words my nan spoke, I hear myself bring
to be young can seem obscene
though in our hearts, we are all a little green
If only we could to feel youth again
wake up not feeling sickness and pain
the daily struggle of perpetuating age
being able to turn a new page
the winds of change are hardly ever seen
when they do they are almost never seen
they can leave one feeling a little green
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