[ familiarity we count on ]

familiarity we count on
but who counts familiarity
I played a game of cards when I was just a boy
and fascination gripped me with my solitary game
I played it everyday and everyday became the same
I set out to be successful
and I proceeded in routine
some may seek adventure but the wise security
and my old wisdom trapped me in my same old mind
my hair was turning grey but in so many ways I was still a boy

missing change beneath the seats
no one misses change
considering her options
the misses changed her mind
oh she changed
at least half a dozen times
but her choice of preference was the one she made at first
and the color of her hair was a shade of mostly brown
but under the magic of the sun
her bunette locks sparkeled gold
and change was all around her
preserving her young nature
and no one knew just when old age would ever take her

consider your options consider carefully
take into consideration how foolish are the care free
when all we have is old we offer nothing new
like souls anchored down far below the sea
no one hears us
and our cries are not heard
we are starving
and we will starve you too