Some freezing rain is falling on my shoulder
and a winter wind is blowing through each lung.
Some things about this weather make me older
some things about it make me feel so young.
There's a quarter moon that knows the hours i'm keeping
and a glittered highway showing back its light.
There's a baby at home in my room that's sleeping
and a woman that won't be alone tonight.
So let the lads and lad-ettes keep Ibiza
and morning walks home, cocktail on their chin.
I'll spill my own drink listening to Aretha
with my girl and a fireplace in our den
If being young is one prolonged farewell
I'll find it undiminished somewhere else.