It ain’t like the ol’ days kid,
.:light’s too damn bright for one;,
ain’t got those same-self feels,
that comfort haze, that autumn phase,
.:ain’t got that wall dropped pirate flag,
that dim-lamp candle-light wanna-glow;,
when it was that the wine washed when and when it was that was was when,
and the smoke flowed free.
but we ain’t gonna be the kind,
that dies to be young,
‘n lives to be old.
kinds ain’t got kin to kind in this.
.:‘n she ain’t to be found–
–ain’t the same;,
ain’t like the ol’ days kid,
ain’t no worse,
but not better.
