Timeless, on the edge of any city   A field of weathered stones   Watching, all alone   Marks the fitful resting place   Of silent, stirring bones   Some that pass before us   We, in guilt, cannot let go      An old man runs his hands through tattered memories   Of dreams that wouldn't wait   The future; much too late   One foot caught in yesterday, the other near the grave   Conveniently removed from sight   With little fight, he fades away      So many things remain unsaid   So many signals never read   Behold the unenlightened truth   Of blind, unfeeling youth      Growing up, a child is surrounded   Towering above, so rudely pushed and shoved   By those who've lost the child-heart   Demanding, without love   Limping into parenthood   The son becomes what father was      So many things remain unsaid   So many signals never read   Behold the pitiful results   Of unfulfilled adults      The rivers of our lives run   Under many bridges burned   No river runs forever   Is a lesson sorely learned      So little time for things unsaid   So little time before we're dead   Behold life's bright and fragile flower   So easily devoured      Timeless, on the edge of any memory   A figure stands alone   A knife-blade, keen and cold   That wounds the heart of every man   Who's love was never told   Some that pass before us   We, in guilt, cannot let go