How has it been, these forty years?
A long time since swaggering of youth
And your magic eyes, smiling in a crowd.
We fell like all the others of our time
And our places there were taken
By the newcomers.
And forty years where have they gone?
Five, fighting for a home
Twenty, raising kids
Ten, paying off the debts
And five now on our own.
Forty seems like nothing
Started by that glance
Yet I wish it was a record,
That we could play again,
Again those tracks etched of our lives,
And never reach the end.