It's the sad-eyed, goodbye yesterday moments I remember
It's the bleak street, weak-kneed partings I recall
It's the mistier mist
The hazier days
The brighter sun
And the easier lays
And there's all the more reason for laughing and crying
When you're younger and life isn't too hard at all

It's the fantastic drowse of the afternoon Sundays
That bored you to rages of tears
It's the unending pleadings to waste all your good times
In thoughts of your middle-aged years
It's a vertical hold, all the things that you're told
For the everyday hero it all turns to zero
And there's all the more reason for living or dying
When you're young and your troubles are all very small

Out here on the street
We'd gather and meet
And scuff up the sidewalk with endlessly restless feet
And half of the time
We'd broaden our minds
More in the poolhall than we did in the schoolhall
With the downtown chewing gum bums
Watching the night life, the lights and the fun

Never wanted to be the boy next door
Always thought I'd be something more
But it ain't easy for a small town boy
It ain't easy at all

Thinking it right, doing it wrong
It's easier from an armchair
Waves of alternatives wash at my sleepiness
Have my eggs poached for breakfast, I guess

(I think I'll be Clint Eastwood)
(Jimi Hendrix, he was good)
(Let's try William the Conqueror)
(Now, who else do I like?)