Man is born small,
But soon he will grow tall,
To tell the world about his dream,
And learn to live life to the brim.

He'll live a fleeting life,
But it will be full and bright,
Soon he'll find the love of his life,
Time will pass and he'll grow wise and right.

Soon he'll have children to grow,
And he'll remember the days of his youth,
Yet he's stopped growing now,
That is the truth.

Now it's a race against time,
The sands are slipping
His hair grows white,
And his bones are creaking.

Soon he'll be weak and old,
But he's lived a life to be told,
Youth is now a far-off memory,
Something that he will bury.