Another birthday, another candle,
|
Sometimes it¡¯s hard to handle
|
The sight of twenty-five
|
Is it me or do the years just fly
|
|
And all my friends say
|
You don¡¯t look it
|
They smile and tell me I shouldn¡¯t let it get to me
|
Ah, but it gets to me that it gets to me
|
|
And I know that the cold hard truth these days
|
Is that everybody lies about their age
|
Just four or five years, there¡¯s nothing to it
|
But I¡¯m the one who lived through it.
|
|
So which five years would I lose
|
Which lessons would I choose to have to learn again
|
I wonder
|
Just to seem a little younger
|
Which memories, which loves
|
Which friends would I give up
|
And not want back for
|
All the laughter, all the tears
|
Tell me which five years
|
|
Now there¡¯s been times when, there were some things
|
If I had a time machine, I¡¯d of done ¡®em differently
|
Oh but now I see that I just can¡¯t see
|
What to blame and what to credit
|
There¡¯s just no way you can edit the shadow from the shine
|
You see it¡¯s all so perfectly intertwined
|
And I¡¯ve come to the point where I¡¯ve faced the fact
|
That it all adds up and I won¡¯t subtract
|
Not a single minute, not a single hour
|
If I had the power
|
|
Which five years would I lose
|
Which lessons would I choose to have to learn again
|
I wonder
|
Just to seem a little younger
|
Which memories, which loves
|
Which friends would I give up
|
And not trade back for
|
All the laughter, all the tears
|
Now tell me which five years
|
Which memories, which loves
|
Which friends would I give up
|
And not trade back for
|
All the laughter, all the tears
|
Now tell me which five years?
|
|
-----------------
|
Which Five Years
|
Pam Tillis |