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Your moment fades away the setting sun seems to say.
Those lonely shadows cross your mind.
Your treasures gone and there are no more to find.

Now you're old.
Are you tired and sore?
Does your soul even work anymore?

Your moon has grown cold, it's dim and gray.
Saturn's grief is in your hear, holding sway.
There's so much sadness locked away.
Your moment fades away.

Now you're old, all you see is lines.
In your hands, on your face, in your mind.
Can your thoughts still feel the sky?
Or does your soul make you want to die?

Cry.
Die, it's time to die.
Dead.

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