Hayden Casey Golden Year
In my golden year
The light has dwindled in the trees
And much has gone to waste, I fear
There's a rift between
Who I am and who I thought I'd be
That widens every day
The day will come
When I have said all there is for me to say
When I have drained the finite bank
And I will cycle through old words
And I will ponder through old thoughts
And what will be left for me
In my golden year
I'm supposed to figure out
Who to be and where to go from here
But life has torn me down
It's chewed me up and spit me out
And I'm running out of care to give
The day will come
When we have said all there is for us to say
When we have drained the finite bank
And we will cycle through old words
And we will ponder through old thoughts
And what but dust is left for us
What but dust is left
In my golden year
