Sometimes I look in the mirror and I Don't like what I see And I wonder if she'll ever know the Darker side of me Is my reflection just a shell of the Truth? Am I the living or am I the dying proof?
I'm learning to move slow, I'm learning To let go I'm learning most things a man my Age is supposed to know I'm learning how to write, I'm learning How to sleep at night I'm learning after these years how to Be thankful for what I got And I carry on With a heart of stone And calloused hands Sometimes I think I'm crazy, washed Up in the brain As for my youth I threw most of those Years away And I can't even apologize for half the Things I've done Or all the nights spent looking down