You run round in boots big for you.
Literally though, and they think it’s cute.
A train driver, a fireman, a pilot, a cook.
That first drummer whose hand you shook.
But suddenly you’re scared.
The world it moves too fast.
You wished you could be older.
And it’s getting here at last.
And suddenly you’re scared.
Can you live on your own?
Each angry letter in the mail.
Reminds you, you need home.
Memories of the future, for which you longed.
You don’t want memories,
Cause the present, it’s strong.
Memories of the future, they slip in your mind.
Will this be the heavenly place you find?