Then I was young and unafraid,
When dreams were made and used and wasted.
There was no ransom to be paid,
No song unsung, no wine untasted.
But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hopes apart
As they turn your dreams to shame
. . . So different now from what it seems
Now life has killed
The dream I dreamed.*
In just a couple of weeks, we'll make our fourth trip to the Shore. We'll pack up our car with beach chairs and buckets and frisbees. We'll take a cooler and a blanket and bags of groceries into our SUV. (I've been successful so far at avoiding the mini-van.)
No. See? See that smile? That love? You see? We create new dreams. My reality has turned out to be better.
* Here are the entire lyrics.