I remember when we were just kids,
My mom used to say something wise,
It’s not the clothes that make you a man,
But what he says and shares with the world.

I remember when they used to surprise me,
By playing peek-a-boo and counting to three,
They can’t scare us anymore on Halloween,
We don’t say trick or treat, or dress up for candy.

I guess this is growing up, this is moving on,
These are the memories you’ll have when you’re twenty-one.

I remember elementary, when I had my first surgery,
They wrote me letters and get well cards,
But I never got to see or read a single word,
Because the teacher had spilled coffee all over their work.

Middle school, spelled the end of innocence,
And for the people that knew me then, my common sense,
It’s then that I learned that you shouldn’t play with hearts,
Or put together certain body parts.

I guess this is growing up, this is moving on,
These are the memories you’ll have when you’re thirty-one,
This has to be the most disturbing scene,
The worst display of life when you’re thirteen.

High school remembers me; I told one liners and tasted spirits,
This is where I pushed my limits and lives changed in minutes,
I’ve never forgotten the night I heard a silent heart,
Friends have a way of going out in style and parting.

This is me growing up; I guess this is life,
These are the memories you’ll have with a wife,
This has to be the most surprising scene,
To see your life through at nineteen.