I was born, I hate this part
Being someone new
Being torn, seeing someone who died as you grew
Growing older is k**ing a child
Who laughed and smiled at anything
Growing colder and less and less wild
And learning to sing
I was young, then not so young:
Scary either way
One more rung down that black ladder every day
One more floor down the elevator
To oblivion, what fun
But the singularly awful one
Is being born