Testo The final years Bob Mould

The final years

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?