I found it somehow strange even then
How you'd go on about it
You shared that vision again and again
Till I could see it too, my friend
Imagine us, you said
All wrinkled, bent and grey
Three queer old codgers reflecting back
To Tangchao's golden days
Together forever more
And I believed as you believed
Together's what we'd have in store
Our grandkids fighting duels
with drumstick swords
Those were your word
Guitars and basses slung across
their backs
As they climb cross stacks
of drums and amps
While we old gramps
we cry our joyful tears
And drain a nostalgic class
to those wonderful wonderful years
Together we'd grow old
Tell me why it won't turn out exactly
as you told
Tell me why it's grown so cold