Sunday, June 26, 2011

Les Miserables

Growing old is a bitch. Growing old when your youth has been bypassed, growing old when your list of promise has only cross outs all over it, that sucks worse. When you're young growing old takes so much longer than it should. It seems like an interminable wait. But you are never too old for a breeze of redemption. If your are young enough, when you see the dust and leaves moved by one, run to it. As Malcolm says, if you can't run, walk. If you can't walk, crawl. If you can't crawl, find someone to carry you, but move towards it. Never stop moving towards it.

There was a time when all were kind
Their voices were soft
And their words inviting

There was a time when love was blind
And my world was a song
The song was exciting

There was a time...

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die

I dreamed that God would be forgiving

Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made

and used

and wasted

There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung,

no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night.....

Their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart

As they turn your dream to shame....

there are dreams that cannot be
there are storms we cannot weather

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this one I'm living

It is so different now

from what it seemed
Now that life has killed the dream

I dreamed.

---- Alain Boublil

1 comment:

BB-Idaho said...

The printed word seems much starker than the music. Either way, a haunting expression of
life & frustration....