Can you hear me crying over the past?
Can you tell that my time is over at last?
The years have quickly come and gone.
I ask, where do I go from here on?
I’ve done it all, I’ve been there and back.
It all seems like dreams that I‘ve carried
around in an old brown paper sack.
There’s no more laughter,
there’s no more tears,
just loneliness
and fears.