Do the years add up
To the s** and the blow
Of a breath and a beating heart
There must be more
You can wash your face
With a sunset song
The lines will still remain
They'll never be gone
Will you bully [?] your land
With a furrowed brow
But King Harvest leaves
With a thinning crown
You may bow your head
As the hair recedes
But it's filled with years
That no one can steal
When the work stops working
What was light becomes a weight
When the work stops working
Shall we pack it all in
When the work stops working
And the weight becomes an ache
When the work stops working
Shall we pack it all in
Or start again
Ah, the search for answers
Is an idiot's task
I'm not halfway there
But don't want to ask
The search gives a glint
To the older eye
And I'll keep on looking
Till the day I die
Is the work half-worth
When your hands grow raw
When your knees keep creaking
Like an old barn door
The gloves of love
Become an old man's friend
And you'll learn to make a stand
Not to stoop and bend
When the work stops working
What was light becomes a weight
When the work stops working
Shall we pack it all in
When the work stops working
And the weight becomes an ache
When the work stops working
Shall we pack it all in
Or start again
The lines remain
And they will never be gone
All life is filled with years
No one can steal
I'll keep on looking
Till the day I die
I'll learn to make a stand
Not stoop and bend
When the work stops working
What was light becomes a weight
When the work stops working
Shall we pack it all in
When the work stops working
And the weight becomes an ache
When the work stops working
Shall we pack it all in
Or start again