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• Artiste: Bob Mould
• Titre: The Final Years
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It's the slowing down Foot caressing pavement with caution Not like before when we ran With abandon across the rocks and cracks Of fissured earth and shattered sky And weeds that grow so terribly high We wander for days in a complicated maze And fear we surely lost our way As I land on the other side I wonder if things had been different I wanna wake up and be different I'm choking the life from the past Clutching my stories A satchel full, a cache of indignation Where did I put my sense of misplaced rage? Who crossed the lines I dreamt up in my fevered state? Like children acting out familiar fears What do we cherish in the final years? Where did I put my sense of misplaced rage? Who crossed the lines I dreamt up in my fevered state? Like children acting out familiar fears What do we cherish in the final years?