Now its years since your body went flat and even memories of that
are all think and dull, all gravel and glass But who needs them
now -- displaced they're easily more safe --
the worst of it now: I can't remember your face

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For a while, with the vertigo cured, we were alive -- we were pure
The void took the shape of all that you were, but years take their toll,
and things get bent into shape
Antiseptic and tired, I can't remember your face

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You were supposed to grow old Reckless, unfrightened, and old,
you were supposed to grow old

Return You were supposed to return