When I was younger, so much younger than today
I never thought I’d be this old, with such few hairs turned grey
We’d laugh and joke, enjoy a smoke, with friends and have a drink
We never thought we’d be this old, our lives were in the pink
We were the lads, not mums or dads, they were simply old ones
They never thought that they’d be old, now they push up gravestones
When you were younger, full of life, it was only a rehearsal
So take the time to view your past, you know it’ll be a hearse’ll
Stop outside of your front door with all your family crying
And selfishly each one will think, it’s only others dying
To be alive you must face death, sometimes it comes in nightmares
Look at the void with your last breath, recoiling from the frighteners
Of seeing nothing, after all you’ve done and felt and suffered
If the nurse had only picked you up at birth and had you smothered.
Eternity awaits your soul and are you truly ready?
To face what ever waits for you, that is, if there is any?
Take a long and heavy time to study all you’re feeling
Did you build up credit time in Church when you were kneeling?
Do these lines disturb your peace as you sit slowly reading?
Believe me this is naught compared to millions who lay bleeding
From war and rape and pain and fear of men who trample on them
Those millions who have gone before and half of them were women
We only know a part of lives of countless generations
When men have written everything on histories of nations
They kept the faith and told the truth as only they could see it
We know that victors give a gloss to words that give them credit
Of times gone by we know so much, we read the books and journals
Of saints and monks and mighty lords and dashing army colonels
But what of those who stood behind, who served and toiled in silence?
They were not mute, they felt the pains, they managed on a pittance
Their lives were hard and often short, they’ll never be acknowledged
If we who have the power to speak say nothing of their courage
I’m not referring to those men who followed all their leaders
I’m paying homage to the girls who were treated like prime breeders
Born to bleed and breed and need some safety from a master
To die in childbirth was the normal way to their hereafter
Oh! How little we do know and how much did they alter?
The millions who have gone before, just some master’s daughter
Grieve for them at least this once, lest we fail to thank them
In years ahead when we are dead and other men ignore them.
They have gone were we must go, of this we must be mindful
Please let me show I know they passed this way, and I am grateful
So my grey hairs are pale indeed when viewed from this perspective
My years on Earth will soon be done, as is this introspective.
"Bipolar is a roller-coaster ride without a seat belt. One day you're flying with the fireworks; for the next month you're being scraped off the trolley" I said that.