music by Peter Crane, Rick Mealey, Paula Naveda, and Josh Walsh
lyrics by Rick Mealey
It fades into the misty wood
a doe I left my dinner for
she watches from the forest
used to be my old back yard
somebody needed office space
it’s harder to remember now
the days we all played army there
me and neighbor boys
whose names I’ve long since forgotten
a vaguely remembered face
from another time and place
childhood falls like water
running down from this year’s mountain thaw
hold it back
hold it back
but we teach our children to excel
by standards we can’t name
work their field relentlessly
and show no signs of shame
tell them win at any cost
but when we lose the game
we sure know who to blame
so we feed them on our fears
push them past their prime
wise before their years
old before their time
summers by a clearer sea
when skin could turn a healthy brown
showing Mum and Dad
the hermit crab I found
out on the bar of sand
walking out to Marshall’s Island
the snakes and gulls that beat retreat
a time of wonder
receding with the poisoned tide
so much I still don’t understand
the secret was in the palm of my hand
childhood falls with speed of light
distorted by an ill-formed glass
hold it up
hold it up
see us overwork the underaged
and not let up the beating
perpetuate our childish thoughts
and childish ways of being
discourage creativity
and childlike ways of seeing
and the necessary dreaming
while we feed them on our fears
stop them on a dime
wise before their years
old before their time
we tell them, sonny, take this book
make sure you do just what we said
read chapters one to twenty-three
them Japs and Krauts are way ahead
we’re falling way behind
you know we’ve got a long long way to go
now here’s the lesson, memorize it
you don’t like it, them’s the breaks
learn it early, learn it well
it’s you who’ll pay for our mistakes
and for our luxuries
luxuries that you may never know
recite all thirty pages of your homework from last evening
you don’t need to know what it implies
you just have to trust us that it’s right
’cause we say it is
no time for youthful pleasures
now there isn’t even time for youth
there’s work to be done
we need all hands
let’s hit them while they can’t hit back
childhood falls a sanguine red
from a fast-retiring innocence
we hold it down
we gun it down
stampede them all with trivia
and pass along the billing
by all means train them not to think
they’ll be forever willing
now twelve year olds are dating
having children while they’re chilling
thirteen year olds are killing
while we feed them on our fears
never see the crime
wise before their years
old before their time
(c)1995 (p) 2009 @Fulcrum