The Passing Show

When we were simple and na've We wore our feelings on our sleeve As we've grown jaded and corrupt Our manner's guarded and abrupt Oh, how we'd smile most readily Whilst ploughing on unsteadily Now frowns are etched upon our face We can no longer stand the pace Although we've got to go with the passing show It doesn't ever mean we haven't made the scene And what we think we know to what is really so Is but a smithereen of what it might have been We'd sing in gay abandon then We'd get it wrong and try again As here we brood with doubts assailed Nothing ventured, nothing failed When life itself can chart the course Then life's the product we endorse When circumstances tell of death We keep our counsel, save our breath Our laughter rang around the world When we were happy boys and girls As now we baulk and hesitate Encumbrance comes to those who wait But when we're torn from mortal coil We leave behind a counterfoil It's what we did and who we knew And that's what makes this story true