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Your nails are dirty from the city
I catch you thinking it’s a pity
You ever had that bluebird tattoo on your shoulder
Sunlight spelling summer dresses
Across your Judes, across your Tesses
But the evenings always turn out to be colder
Chorus:
Older… Do the days that come now fly by?
Older… Does the blood that boiled now run dry?
Older… Still too much to be done to sit and just wonder why
There’s a box you keep the past in
You keep it locked, you keep it lasting
Your mother’s photograph, the things you never told her
A child demanding your attention
A quarrel needs your intervention
The words you use surprise you when you scold her
Chorus
When your youth burned like a coal
You said you wanted to make it white-hot
But in the hard sell of your soul you got stamped out
When your youth burned like a coal
You said you wanted to make it white-hot
But in the hard sell of your soul you got stamped out
Like an ingot
Chorus