In the days of youth
so wantonly spent
I held a lease on freedom
but never paid any rent
And the loss is a memory
that hasn't quite went

In the nights of youth
so openly wasted
I held meals of choices
but forgot how they tasted
and the aroma is a memory
which cruel time bids hasten'd

In the mornings of youth
so emptily gained
I held plenty of purpose
but plans were not lain'd
and the feeling of a memory
is all thats remained

So the wantonly openly emptily youth
that saw every moment
but didn't see the truth
See's freedom choices and purpose
only as what can't be
because even youth has left me
only with my memory