Older Lyrics

Older

Perhaps I'm growing dimmer as I look on middle age

Like a song without a melody or a book without a page

Like a light bulb burning out inside that candle lighted room

Like a used car on a January morning dies too soon

No my body doesn't show it but you can see it in my face

The lines are growing longer at each checkpoint in this race

My paycheck has more digits but the winter wind is colder

And I may not be much wiser but I'm sure I'm getting older

By the pool there lies a goddess draped in oil and strings today

She looks about the shape and size of those I used to play

But I'm weary of the hunt nowadays

I got no thirst to make the slaughter

And anyway she wouldn't play she's young enough to be my daughter

The children splash and yell the way I did when I was small

When the boogieman was close at hand hiding down the hall

Well he disappeared a couple years before I knocked him off my shoulder

And I may not be much wiser but I'm sure I'm getting older

Well the sky is like a lost love and the clouds are like the rain

They block the stolen memories and threaten wind and rain

The light touch of the April breeze cools the sweat upon my nose

The fountain trickles crystal clear water like a hose

That I played with in the driveway when I should have washed the car

I wonder why I'm writing Paula and I wonder where you are

Her suntan oil is at a boil and it's much too hot to hold her

And I may not be much wiser but I'm sure I'm getting older

Well tomorrow is an anchor that can tie you to the street

When others shed their suit and tie I scratch and crawl my feet

The winds of western logic and their factories of despair

Are situations locked inside a dream that isn't there

Behold the virgin angel as she perches on the roof

Alone and tired and partly wired but still aloof

I find the things I kept inside were things I should've told her

And I may not be much wiser but I'm sure I'm getting older

Behold the boxed in boxes

The apartment dwellers say

I'll live inside a bigger box if I get rich someday

I'll make my room look just like something from that magazine

It may lack imagination but it's costly chic and clean

The masters of the landscape and their wealthy would be pawns

They say son this is the nineties you don't need backyards and lawns

And I fought these scenes for years but now I've signed that leather folder

And I may not be much wiser but I'm sure I'm getting older

Well I drive a dirty dented black and silver car around

I rarely go for walks my feet don't ever touch the ground

I let myself lose sleep each night just to lay there counting cash

There's nothing on my mind sometimes no awe inspiring flash

I find my lust on television and I read the daily news

Hypnotized by talk shows I've got other peoples views

If rolling stones could gather moss then my brain would be a bolder

And I may not be much wiser but I'm sure I'm getting older

Well the morning brings a new refrain a day like none before

And if life is so brand new honey tell me then why is it a chore

I've smoked ten thousand cigarettes and I've sucked a vat of beer

It's hard to breath I can't believe that somehow I'm still here

Well there's no excuse for criminals like me who steal their health

I lost my true priorities and I found sad sickly wealth

The costume jewels that I sold to fools while my cuff links grew much colder

Prove that I may not be much wiser but I'm sure I'm getting older

Well I go on dates with strange exotic women in their prime

They laugh at all my diatribes they never spend a dime

They ask me for an answer to their adolescent gloom

And they ask me in my kitchen to escort them to my room

Well it's there they try to take me down a trail I've used before

A teenage boy at midnight when I lost it by the shore

They bump and grind until they find me bold and getting bolder

And I may not be much wiser but I'm sure I'm getting older

Well there's much in what you say

They tell me when I'm in the bars

You might be peddling comic books but at least they're not used cars

And as another year gets added so slowly to the crime

I find I value daylight more and fear most wasting time

Might be the same old story what will be will always be

Well I may not be a child but then again I'm only thirty three

Well it's easy to be deep in thought and it's hard to get much colder

And I may not be much wiser but I'm sure I'm getting older

Oh yes if rolling stones could gather moss then my brain would be a bolder

And I may not be much wiser but I'm pretty sure I'm getting older