There Must Be More to Life (Than Growin' Old)

Sky full of factory smoke stacks hot cinders paint the snow black Turn up my callar to the cold My old boots're wet and dirty missed my bus at 7:30 Ah there must be more to life than growing old Each day seems like the last one each year just like the past one As if they're stamped on from the mold Somehow it seems to be the only change is you and me There must be more to life than growing old There must be more to life than growing old What happened to the dreams we used to hold We never asked for cities paved with gold there must be more to life than growing old We never asked for cities paved with gold there must be more to life than growing old There must be more to life than growing old