No more do I see the days I once enjoyed. The spring in my step has sprung, the bounce is done. By the wayside, lost, downtrodden, forgotten, alone they lie.
Or do they?
Are they gone? Are the days of my youth gone at the ripe old age of thirty and two? Have I not been taught that age is but a number?
Set my mind. Mind my set. My mind; set. No more decisions to be taken by hands not of my own. Bother me not gathering forces, return from whence you came.
Light No More upon my mind.