The coffee has a shockingly bitter taste because I let it boil far too long.
The pictures that I painted aren’t as pretty as they once were.
I still tell jokes, but they’re never as funny as they used to be.
And after all these years, the music that I play is hackneyed.
But still the stars shine on all these things.
And the sun still sets regardless if they’re good or bad.
And I know me.