When I'm old, and I'm withered
With my sallow skin
And my eyes wrinkled
With my blurry vision
And my weary feet
What if
I pick up a passion
Not a new one
One I never let go of
But one never pursued
Not a new one
One I never let go of
But one never pursued
What if
Time will allow me a reprieve
And let me be a bookkeeper
What if
I could witness you
Picking at picture books
And in the blink of an eye
You're asking about philosophy
Picking at picture books
And in the blink of an eye
You're asking about philosophy
What if
One day
My last day
As a bookkeeper will come
My only wish is
Let my last day as a bookkeeper
Come before the last day
Your footsteps echo through
My last day
As a bookkeeper will come
My only wish is
Let my last day as a bookkeeper
Come before the last day
Your footsteps echo through
What if
Time slowed down
Just one more time
So let it be your turn
To be a bookkeeper
--Tia A., Adult
Just one more time
So let it be your turn
To be a bookkeeper
--Tia A., Adult