When I was a young boy
I'd drive out to the city and
Lose my way until the dawn
Oh, how free I felt
There was room left on my belt
Oh how good it felt to be young

Walking, talking, drinking
Living, lying, and never thinking
Always led me to only feeling low
When low is all you have
It just serves to make you mad
So I wound up my living and let it go

Young men are always getting older
Old men are always inching closer
And time is the last friend
That we see before we go home

Lately all this living's taking all that I can give it
Leaving little for my broken hands to hold
Just the devil and his deals
And they're nipping at my heels
Oh how strange it feels getting old

Young men are always getting older
Old men are always inching closer
And time is the last friend
That we see before we go home

Life will let out quickly
For the well and for the sickly
'Cause the best of us are
Merely skin and bone
But when moth and rust destroy
We look forward to coming joys
When death in his long reign
Is overthrown

Young men are always getting older
Old men are always inching closer
And love is the first friend
That we'll see when we get home