I've started to notice how common lost passion is.
I first noticed when I was young,
And I asked my mother why she didn't sew anymore and she replied, "I have no time,"
And I asked my father why he didn't draw anymore
And he replied, "I have no time."
And as I began to grow
I started to understand
Time slipped through my fingers
Like all the dreams I had desperately tried to keep in my grip
When I was five and ten and then fifteen and at seventeen,
I wonder if time will betray me too.