I remember what it felt like at seventeen: I was a cat, a snake, a lizard, a mouse... Still got an interest in the limousine And a spouse and a brat Country house, London flat I'm gonna head for the island when the summer's out I'm gonna do all the stuff that I can Drink like a fish in a waterspout - I'm a fan of the flow It began long ago I'm a man who should know It doesn't stop There's so much to remember So much to forget: We're all in the possession of the future tense But don't know it yet And the flesh comes through the spirit The spirit through the flesh... We look the Sphinx in the face for answers And, of course, we're not impressed We're caught between age and beauty Experience and youth So we feel the need acutely For any kind of Truth Oh, but we get copped some days Caught between options we've failed to play Such wasted chance So I join the wastrel's dance: It has slow as well as fast movements And any change must be an improvement On simply fossilizing, standing still I got a steady vocation for the Quiet Zone I just can't wait for the song to be sung I'm still possessed by the promise of the Pleasure Dome You're so young, you're so old Such a drag to be told You're so here, you're so gone So near, so wrong, so queer, so strong, so... Such a drag to be told...