They don't believe me when I say,
My foresight stretches a long way.
Down the winding road of time,
Into the valley of decline,
I see my age, in the faces of those who have traveled this way.

I see my future in their shoes,
I see the certain way their memories fade like the morning dew.
And yet I have arrive at the early hour,
Before the dew has time to flee.
Before the earth has time to turn,
The dawn itself calls out to me.

For it's here I see what it simply means to simply be,
A present in the presence of the bitter sweet.
The better notion of pursuing passions which never seemed to be,
A suitable means of living without ease.

And yet such fear of fear itself is what I need,
To motivates a man such as me.
To presuppose and catch a glimpse beyond the horizon,
Into the distance where I decree,
That the next life will be a more suitable life for me.