watching the concert goers stroll by,
there seems to be nobody under sixty
as I relax under an azure sky.
They wear clothes best suited
to those who are in their teens,
beer bellies and walking sticks,
faded lives and fading dreams.
But I'm an old cynic with no right
to mock others, yet I do,
the Rolling Stones are coming to town
and they are legends, it is true.
But the audience look even older
and I remember them fondly in their prime
yet everyone at the concert
for one night...will travel back in time.