Before I get on stage

I have more time behind me than I do ahead of me.

just me, good to see I have some company.

i was going to suggest you have a cup of coffee but i won't

because i understand exactly what you mean. it's a feeling that, at times, i share with you.

all too well.

I can't spend enough time alone at home in bed gazing out the window and just wanting to rest for a long time....

But then, I'm prone to depression anyway, and it gets worse in the winter.

One of the shitty things about getting old(er) is that you have to lose people and things in your life.

Friends and relatives and beloved pets...gone.

Unlike injuries to your fingers or hands that form callouses that no longer hurt, each loss is like a knife to the heart.


Each loss hurts as much as the one before it, and it's near impossible for the soul to recover.

IMO, anyway.

and too young to credibly feign senility. I'm in that awkward in-between stage.

Sometimes it works.

for some reason.

Oh, and I'm wasted and I can't find my way home.

Many's the time I've been mistaken
And many times confused
Yes, and I've often felt forsaken
And certainly misused

Oh, but I'm alright, I'm alright
I'm just weary to my bones
Still, you don't expect to be bright and bon vivant
So far away from home, so far away from home

And I don't know a soul who's not been battered
I don't have a friend who feels at ease
I don't know a dream that's not been shattered
Or driven to its knees

But it's alright, it's alright
For we lived so well so long
Still, when I think of the
Road we're traveling on
I wonder what's gone wrong
I can't help it, I wonder what has gone wrong