Why must we grow old
Why has fear taken hold
The dread of timeless loss
My searching eyes look
Just like the old me
The curly haired little boy
Dazed by the tiptoes of beauty
That took refuge in his innocence
And bestowed upon his fleeting being
A longing sense
Why has fear taken hold
The dread of timeless loss
My searching eyes look
Just like the old me
The curly haired little boy
Dazed by the tiptoes of beauty
That took refuge in his innocence
And bestowed upon his fleeting being
A longing sense
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