The Final Years - Bob Mould

It’s the slowing down\nFoot caressing pavement with caution\nNot like before when we ran\nWith abandon across the rocks and cracks\nOf fissured earth and shattered sky\nAnd weeds that grow so terribly high\nWe wander for days in a complicated maze\nAnd fear we surely lost our way\nAs I land on the other side\nI wonder if things had been different\nI wanna wake up and be different\nI’m choking the life from the past\nClutching my stories\nA satchel full, a cache of indignation\nWhere did I put my sense of misplaced rage?\nWho crossed the lines I dreamt up in my fevered state?\nLike children acting out familiar fears\nWhat do we cherish in the final years?\nWhere did I put my sense of misplaced rage?\nWho crossed the lines I dreamt up in my fevered state?\nLike children acting out familiar fears\nWhat do we cherish in the final years?