The day is going to come

When I'll wake before the sun

When I'll try hard to look my best

When I'll spend hours behind a desk.


The day is going to come

When I'll start to settle down

With some man I'll keep around

Then we'll figure out the rest.


The day is going to come

When the clock will start to tick

And I'll decide whether to live free

Or spend my mornings, sick

And peeing on some test.


The day is going to come

When my life won't be my own, —

I'll be filling up a home

With books, boys, girls

Or pets.


The day is going to come

When my hair will start to fade, —

Blonde, brown, red

Then grayed, —

A reflection much older

Than the one I last met.



The day is going to come

When I'll have to figure out

What my whole life is about, —

Though it scares me to death

I don't think I'm close yet.


The day is going to come

When I'll shed the skin

Of being young.

With wrinkled, squinting eyes

I'll watch the sun set.


Thinking about it now

Lifts me up and brings me down,

But, God, —

I just hope I have plenty of time left.