Youth. Youngness

because of those weeks spent restless in sleep
I've been too tired, too tired to dream
and the day is never as short as it seems
the sun stays shine less cause the air isn't clean

she told me once i had a penchant for lies
I've been too wired, too wired to try
and the setting sun passes time
until the day comes that I'll surely die

but the moon won't be there by my side
she'll come and go just like the tide
in the sand I'll sleep, in the shade I'll hide
I'll watch the waves til i go blind

and the old man again knocks at my door
he comes and goes while I'm on the floor
with a pen in my hand and my mind wanting more
i hope this paper will settle the score