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Written by Doug Harvey

My grandfather sits staring into space
He doesn’t remember his name
There he waits for Father Time
To come and take him away

He taught me how to throw a curve
He paid my first honest wage
Now he forgets and he regrets
With the coming of age

His days are growing shorter
The hours slip through his hands
The waves of time wash the weeks away
Like castles made of sand
The months sail by so swiftly
So soon they turn to years
What becomes of his loves and dreams
His blood, toil, sweat and tears?

Today I found my first gray hair
I had to look away
What became of the child I was?
When did I come of age?

My life is still an unfinished book
Each day I turn the page
But the words start to fade and blur
With the coming of age

Repeat Chorus

© Copyright by Doug Harvey and Bird Ash Music

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