Living to be one-hundred and three, is not quite the prize it’s been cracked up to be!
What if they thought we didn’t care If they gave in to deep despair And one day they just were not there…
What can’t be fixed with push and shove we’ll mend, instead, with endless love.
The patterns were nice, that the ice drew inside the windowpanes
Don’t listen to their whispers, that tempt you to stop trying. If we don’t fight for justice, our kids will do the dying.