A Song for Old Friends

Be young

Be merry

Have no cares

Have no worry

 

Have yourself a drink

Have yourself a song

Have yourself a time

For it never lasts too long

 

In our youth in dreaming fields

We stared upon the stars

“That is what we’re made of, boys—

that is what we are!”

 

Yesterday we ourselves

Were the patter of little feet.

This morning we are the boots

Marching in the street.

 

Tonight in dwindling numbers

We will raise our glasses high

For tomorrow we give fine speeches

And ignore our mother’s cries

 

And in our age we’ll wonder

As we stare at dust and earth

For that is what we are, boys

And that is what we’re worth