Raised being told that he
Could do anything he wanted to
He wondered if that still were true
His son was three; his house was two
His wife kept quiet 'cause she knew
Much better than that
He's making money making money for a living
And it brings him down
She thinks it's funny
She says, "Honey, count your blessings"
And it brings him down
When he was young
He thought that someday he'd be comfy
Now it brings him down
The things that he regrets not doing
Outnumber memories of the things that he did
No time to worry 'bout that now
He's busy cushioning his kid
To protect him from that