One eyelid seems to droop lower than the other

think I’m slowly starting to look like my mother

and yeah that scares me a little

What’s happening to my skin

is there hair growing on my chin

maybe my eyes deceive me again

And who knows where this train’s going

there’s some fool’s grace in hardly knowing

I got a ticket is all that ought concern me

There are still teeth behind these lips

still plenty rhythm dancing in these hips

Gratitude is the jewel I’ll hold onto.