I’m pink

I can’t tell a green field from a cold steel rail
I’m leading a role in a cage

I’m always ticking away the moments that make up my dull day
I fritter and waste my hours in an offhand way
I’m always looking or waiting for someone to show me the way

I’m young and life is long
and I think there’s time to kill today

but then one day I found that
ten years have got behind
and I’ve missed the starting gun

I’ve realized that sun is the same in a relative way
but I’m older, shorter of breath and one day closer to death

every year is getting shorter
and I never seem to find the time do to what I want
my plans always come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines

the time is gone
the song is over
and I thought I’d something more to say
but I’m just hanging on quiet desperation

tolling: tocar do sino
offhand: ungraciously or offensively nonchalant or cool in manner
fritter: waste time, money, or energy on trifling matters
trifling: unimportant or trivial
naught: nothing, zero
veil: véu
scribbled: write or draw (something) carelessly or hurriedly


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