Getting Old and Dying More

I am told we begin to die
The first day this world is born to us.
Looking to heaven above I only try
To instead focus on the first day your new world is born to us.
I pray to be true to you,
Though I glory in this apathy.
I want only to be true,
But I just seem to be

Getting older,
And dying more.
This flame is starting to smolder,
It I want you to restore.
Getting weaker,
And trying more.
My like only a chore.

I am told life is what you make of it,
And I don't want to make anything today.
I just want to die some more, lay back a bit;
Return to where I'm from, I sit and play.
I wallow in my dirty surrounding,
And I joy in my apathy.
On my heart, there is a pounding,
But I just seem to be

Getting older,
And dying more...

I am told that life is beautiful,
But that's not what I'm needing.
I don't need to be told she's beautiful,
Cause beauty is only fleeting.
What good is a thing as that?
The passion of youth fades away;
I'll just get fade,
N she'll turn gray.

Getting older,
And dying more.
I see a flame seem to grow though older,
My life you will restore.
Though I am weaker
You give me more.
I am now a life keeper,
My life you restore.

by: Drew
October 2, 2001
(#6)