When the years flash by in the blink of an eye, no sooner the start than the end.
When the bells of Time have a hollow chime, and bits of you creak when you bend.
When that wavy hair is no longer there, and nothing hangs where it should,
And the spirit is willing for all that is thrilling, and, oh, but you would if you could.
Well, don’t lose hope on that downward slope – relax and enjoy the view .
Let the edifice crumble as pipes groan and grumble, that’s just the facade, never you.
Life’s swift little feet can never defeat that secret quite hid and unseen
Which no-one can know but undoubtedly so… Deep down you are still seventeen.
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