Yesterday, when I was young, the taste of life was sweet as rain. Upon my tongue, I teased at life as if it were some foolish game. The way the evening breeze may tease a candle flame, The thousand dreams I dream, the splendid things I plan, I always built to last on weak and shifting sand. I lived my life and never asked the time of day, And only now I see how the years ran away. Yesterday, when I was young, so many happy songs were waiting to be sung. So many wayward pleasures lay in store for me, And so much pain my dazzled eyes refused to see. I ran so fast that time and youth at last ran out. I never stopped to think what life is all about, And every conversation I can now recall Concerned itself with me and nothing else at all. The game of love I played with arrogance and pride, And every flame I lit too quickly, quickly died. The friends I made all seemed somehow to drift away, And only I am left on stage to end the play. There are so many songs in me that won't be sung. I feel the bitter taste of tears upon my tongue, The time has come for me to pay. Oh, yesterday, when I was young.