The rugose skin has helped me see better.
And every time, as now, I close my eyes,
The dreams become less vivid of your tender,
And I can see behind those sweet old lies.

The music gets me going; I wonder where it leads.
I still keep those **** letters up my sleeve,
And notes that kept me warm are burnt by your own words.
They don't tell any stories anymore.

Salient pace, turned to a race,
Keeps me moving still and in time.
I invented a machine that would make me old and real;
You, I left as young and past behind.

Someday, I'll sit by the river
Where all the promises were made.
And as I close my eyes, I won't make a sound,
Because there won’t be a flicker
Of my thoughts trailing away
To the day I said "I want you" in reply.