I look in the glass, who’s that staring back?
Not the person who’s inside I swear.
On the bus and the shops I’m still taken aback
How come they’re calling me ’sir‘?
I will try and accept the advice
Not cowed at the close of the day
I’ll go kicking, not gently into the long night.
Dylan Thomas was right
And I have won races I’ve heard the applause
I’ve stood in the light on the stage
But the past is still with us, never quite disappears
But it struggles to brighten the dimming of age
If only youth knew, if only age could
This frustration of being alive
There’s so much I believe, so much I denounce
But life’s mystery persists to confound me.
Life’s mystery persists to confound me.