It's such an age to be so cold And it's growing all the time And it's such a waste to so bitter It's growing all the time
Her life time short on years Playing dead man's finger
It's such an age to be so cold And it's growing all the time And it's such a waste to feel belittled It's growing all the time
While the stories explain little The sorrow will bear it all From a house we played in the tree tops
It's such an age to be so cold And it's growing all the time And it's such a waste to feel belittled It's growing all the time
And its stories explain little The sorrow will bear it all From a house we played in the tree tops