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The stones cry tears of sand

The soccer balls bounce back up

The sight of a well-shaped woman

Brings my memories bubbling to the top

I elude life’s boring moments

Contract my feelings together

I remember when I thought myself young

And 35 meant that you’re old

I didn’t know pebbles could cry

Didn’t know you could buy so much

In the ping pong of shopping malls

So many emotions were there to touch

A little bearded man with a hat

Also remembers he was young

His words on a sandy mirror

Eyes of insistence crinkle blind

There’s the show at the street corner

And i can’t miss a second of it

Since I went back into being

A bored guy watched by the old kid

When everything gets bad to worse

Accidents succeed massacres

The soda pop of my tear glands

Is less and less worth fighting for

The stones cry tears of sand

And we we used to make them skip

I don’t know any lousy kids

But at the time,sure I sure did

As long as I had sweets in my pockets

The sand ran ran ran through the sieve

Before new trends began to hit

The heads of my friends’ destinies

I don’t know any politicians

I only know men of power

It’s only kids who have limits

For the rainbows to turn black

I must have been 8 or 9

When I noticed for the first time

The precious wood you were made of

I’d never felt the cold before

It’s all a jumble in my head

The birdcalls, and the sirens’ song

Internet on the horizon

And our mid-week farewells

I must have been 8 or 9

My daddy made hot chocolate

You were made made up to the nines

To fill my fingers with talent

It’s all a jumble in my head

Pleasure, money rhythm with tears

Never knew you were so distrait

‘Here’s your change madam, good day’

The stones do cry dry tears of sand

And all the time Fairy Polite

Sits me down at the same table

With sorcerers my blood can’t abide

The tempo is infernal

There are only guns to make a case

If it had any importance

The TV would say ‘no comment’

With 2 cents’ worth of tolerance

They bought up my whole family

A third of instinct, two-thirds of science

And the razor-blade shines again

If it had any importance

It wouldn’t be written in books

The taste of childhood is bitter

When adults wrote the rules

I elude life’s boring moments

Contract my feelings together

I remember when I was young

And 35 meant you were old

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