Young Man by Philip Bosley

Babyfaced fool, spouting off on a vintage campaign
Make hay while the tastemakers are in range
Self-pitying rants scrawled on every page
Forever changing, and you'll never change

Piss and moan about your aches and pains
Like young man playing an old man's game

No skills, no clues, no praises, no plans
Washed up hopes written in the sand
Dog-eared advice not piercing through your deadpan
“Man, maybe you should get out while you still can”

Cry about how much better you were back then
And now you're too tired to fight every new young man

Time keeps moving clockwise
Try to deny being pushed aside
Like an ageing beggar on a broken curbside
Just like the ones you used to refuse a dime

Nobody cares about the truths you've notarized
How are still surprised by all the compromise?
Rambling ridiculous like a magpie
You can hear the curtain call, and it's for you this time

Quit your bitchin' and don't you dare cry
Just shut up old man, take your bows, and die

• Americana
• Rock
• alt-country
• indie rock
• shoegaze
• singer-songwriter
• Port Colborne