The hour grows late, the truth can only be told
For here lies the struggle of its overpowering hold
You may run, and rail, look behind and see
The monster of your dreams gaining on thee
Yet as you look behind you can also just view
Your faded memories of the childhood you knew
Your old high-school sweet, so tender to kiss
Old games of baseball, fading in the mist
Of friends, as a child, you'd jump and play
But you can't find them, here and today
Where have they gone? What have they done
Once, when called, you'd come at a run
To play with these friends, these faces, long gone
They are only ghosts now, but never forgotten
What happened to all those books, those places, those names?
Did they also disappear into the grave
Of your own fading mind, like paper in the wind
Or were they never there, never here to begin?
These thoughts and more drag you along in the wake
Of the great tidalwave that's moving to take
All you once held dear, sweet in your mind
All swept away by the passage of time
Yet you can hear it, the monster, gaining ground
It is only your youth, catching up, going round
Then speeding away, you're gasping for breath
And that's when you realize, you lost the bet
That you would stay young, forever and more
As the hour grows later, you stride to the door
You reach for the handle - it turns! not yet
You still have some time before you lose your bet
You walk away, and then, memories! They come
Spilling into your mind, when loosed they run
Amok, aways, but always, so faded!
All of this, how can one not become jaded?
Memory overload, strong, oh-so-bittersweet
Groaning, moaning, tearing at the sheet
Suddenly so clear as if they were yesterday
Full of colour and sounds and oh, by the way
Your hand's on the handle, it turns, you walk through
The door closes behind you, latching there too
Now you're here, on the other side of the street
Now, perhaps, you may get some sleep
As it all fades, you remember the time...
When it all washed away
In the Sands of Time.