I am told I am lucky to be so young,

To cherish the days until I cease to create new memories,

But instead recall the past.

Time is a fickle friend.

 

Why do things have to change?

Sure, I am full of energy and happiness,

But why do I have to leave this place?

Time is a fickle friend.

 

I am to go off creating new debts and ideas,

Hoping, praying that I succeed.

I want the same as everyone else,

Life is a fickle friend.

 

Unless I find this passion I'm told I have,

My life will apparently be hollow.

How am I supposed to be an optimist?

Life is a fickle friend.

 

I try to find balance in my actions.

I love her, love him,

But jealousy comes between us.

Am I a fickle friend?

 

And amidst all of this I am told to concentrate.

The world is turning,

My mind is swimming,

Time is a fickle friend.