Met a young man on the road
Who looked me in the eye so cold
Told me I was way too old
To write songs
In the USA
Met a young man full of hate
Who called me grandpa to my face
Said I never could relate
To young kids
In the USA
And he asked...
Why did you wait so long
To sit down and write a song?
And he said...
Grandpa, you waited too long
Itâs too late to write your songs
Twenty years ago
Never had the heart
Never had the sight
Twenty years ago
Never had the smarts
Never saw the light
Twenty years ago
Never felt the pain
Never felt the awe
Twenty years ago
Never felt my shame
Never knew my flaws
Thereâs nothing I can write today
I could have written way back then
Nothing I can write today
Could be written with a younger pen
And I ask...
Baby, am I too late?
Tell me baby, Tell me now
Baby, writing songs is all I've ever wanted to do