I want to ask do you see them, the ones with stories so old , or do you hurry along trying to get to where you want to be.
They stand on the pavement, with tales you have no time to listen to.
I wish I had time, I don't have time , those words, "you have three months to live your life" .
What life is left now, what do I do now
Do I do the things they do In movies , go on a road trip, have sex with a younger guy.
No , all I want to do is sit and stare at the sunset, watch it glow and know it will set tomorrow and the day after when I'm not here , it doesn't care if I watch it or not , it will still set for the others to see.
I should go gracefully like my father did before me, no fuss , no bother, just slip into the night.
I am not ready, I shall tell God this , he may let me do it over . Oh who am I kidding, this world is just a temporary home , until something or someone calls you home.
So I want to ask, do you see Mr Smith seventy years old, with stories to tell , no you don't, because you can't, you have no time , you have to get where you want to be . Slow down a little it will all be over soon enough.
