Early Retirement - Little Comets

Fortunately I have got

Enough to realise that

This is growing old

The promises you sew are

Shallow footsteps in the snow

That you cover up

Sumptuously I have seen

The centuries in his eyes

Now I’m growing up

It’s wealth that makes you proud

Well there’s no pockets in a shroud

You want showing up

You need showing up

I’m worn down by it all

I’m worn down by it all

Take my innocent relief

Take my shattered inner peace

I’m worn down

A culture cannot die

If it is already long dead

The only place for language is

The remnants of these bandages

That weave a futile melody

While they’re wrapped around my head

The subtle chill of dread that’s filling me

Is deep in each capillary

Fortunately I have got

Enough to realise

This is growing old

I’m worn down by it all

I’m cut down by it all

Take my innocent relief

Take my shattered inner peace

Take my worry

Take my scorn

Take my enigmatic pause

Take the contents of my head

Take the remnants

Take my dread

For I’m worn down