There's so little time left to tell what we did,
The rivers we swam in are dry.
And time has claimed memories we'd rather forget
We've no tears left, so no-one can cry.
The children are grown now with young of their own,
The stories we told them have vanished as well.
We're yesterday's heroes, no more can we fight,
Just live with the dark of our own private hell.
I don't want to argue for yesterday's heroes
Or fight with the lion of fate,
I'll never disturb all those long buried memories
That others may choose to forget.