At 63 - Vered

Whine, oh whine

Oh, why, oh why

Take this child out of my hands

I would like to lie in my bed like I don’t have a plan

I remember Sundays when

We’d roll around in bed

'Till we got so hungry that

We’d have to face the world

But now there’s a little hand

Pulling us out

At 6 a.m.

Oh, how grand it’ll be

On Saturdays

At 63

I remember evenings when we’d

Eat and drink and dance

8 p.m.

was only the beginning, not the end

But now there’s a little hand

Pulling us out

At 6 a.m.

Oh, how grand it’ll be

On Saturdays

At 63