each day over, i’m growing older
and each year brings my fears a bit closer
and as i flip my calendar over and over
the weeks don’t seem to go any slower
there’s nothing left to see, in this town
and no one left to meet, it just sounds
like everything just seems to get me down

at the ripe old age of 23,
is this how it’s meant to be?
at the tender age of 24,
i really hope there’s something more
and at 25, i’ll surmise
things must be better this time
26 just makes me sick
one drink’s all it takes for this
looking back at years gone fast
things always seem much better in the past

sick of saturday afternoons
sitting in my cold bedroom
scrolling through old photos of whom
i’ve not seen in a year or two
maybe i should get a clue
and realize they won’t do the same, we grew
apart, they’re on to something new
maybe i should do the same too

at the deadly age of 27,
should i even be thinking of heaven?
and when i am 28
you’d think by then i’d know my fate
by the time that i’m 29
there is nothing left to find
30, 31, 32, 33
by then it’ll all be the same to me
looking back at years gone fast
things always seem much better in the past

sometimes i think “if there’s a god above”
that they want me to just give up
accept a job in which i’ll grow dumb
and wait for all my limbs to go numb
i’ll pray
that it doesn’t have to be this way
but looking back at years gone fast
things always seem much better in the past

at 34 will i close the door
and hope i’ve found all i’m looking for
35, better open my eyes
stop pining for much better times
after this, the clock will tick
and won’t stop counting all those minutes
and i will miss all that i ever had
even when those things used to make me sad

looking back at years gone fast
things always seem much better in the past