Swaying eucalyptus trees,
Pools poisoned with chlorine,
Chained up dogs barking at the setting sun,
Fireflies breaking free from the prison of spring,
Sharing our first drinks,
Oh to be young,
Oh to be sixteen.

On top of the mountain top,
Skin tied together like a knot on a shoelace,
We must look like ants to any life in outer space,
But we feel like the Lords of all the humanity below us,
The skyscrapers, the suburbs, the bowls of dust,
We make love on top of this never ending mountain,
So high your moans are only heard by the heavens,
You said you’ve never felt so free,
Oh to be young,
Oh to be seventeen.

A new piece of sheepskin to stare at when I get too tired to count sheep,
And like a sheep, I’ll be off to that university in a few weeks,
And my friends now will only speak in empty platitudes,
“We’ll always be friends… I’ll always miss you!”
This room is haunted,
With the ghosts of our laughter and our memories,
They will follow me,
The baggage of our bliss,
Who would have thought their could be pain in remembering something so happy?
My lover is going to be three states away,
She says she will visit by train,
I agree with it… promise we will be fine,
But I know she will find someone new,
The good ones always do,
This is a new chapter in my life,
The old chapters begin to linger on,
A merger of two conflicting interest,
A kite tied to the dirt,
A death in a birth,
But it will work out eventually,
Oh to be young,
Oh to be eighteen.

Oh what a time that was to be alive,
Now I’m all grown, I’m twenty-five,
And the other day I stood next to that eucalyptus tree,
The same one that swayed with the wind when I was sixteen,
I looked at its branches; how they strangely each had a unique shape,
I thought it was kind of symbolic for the paths I still could take,
Before my youth ends,
Before I find myself content in a house on a middle of some mountain,
Who do I want to be?
Where should my branches be extending?
Who should I give these branches to?
What kind of life should I pursue?

I know I’m not as young as I used to be,
But I feel sixteen again,
High on life,
But letting the high confuse you.

There’s no direct path in all of this,
Sometimes you take the wrong branches and the wrong path,
There’s no way to know it,
You say you learn from it all,
As you throw the tree in the bonfire,
Let that fire out with your tears,
Drink away the pain with your friends,
Do the same thing the next year.

The truth is even though I’m twenty-five,
The branch that is perfect for me,
Still remains a mystery,
What kind of life should I desire?
If I find the right branch will I find the right family tree?
It’s a paralyzing thought,
To know you might be climbing up the wrong tree,
And that you’ll probably fall down,
And you’ll be too old,
It might be your last chance at climbing,
Or even worse you’ll give up the climb,
Because the beauty of the climb will be suffocated by pain,
Like how it isn’t worth waiting for a rainbow,
If you are going to get destroyed by the wind and the rain.

So I’ve found it to be the best for me,
Just to keep moving,
Just to keep climbing,
Sometimes I feel like I know I’m climbing in the right direction,
I’m in love with a beautiful girl,
We smile, we laugh, and we embrace through all our days,
We may not be climbing on some tree,
But like that eucalyptus tree,
We sure do sway…

Sway the night away,
To the memories we are creating,
The whispering of the fire,
The flapping noises when we skinny dip,
The clapping together of your hips,
The stomping of our feet as we walk the city streets,
The laughter that shakes hands with the wind,
The conversation made with new friends,
In this moment I realize,
It’s not the climb I should be consumed by,
It’s the dance of life,
The thrill I should get out of being alive.

So I don’t worry anymore,
I just love having you in my life,
Swaying just to sway because we can sway,
Oh to be forever young,
Oh to be twenty-five.


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