As I get older ideals fade away,
Doubts get bolder, my fears learn to stray -
The stars lose meaning, future condenses past -
Yet, I want for nothing, in the age of glass.
You forgo changes at the haste of your demise -
The quantum switchblade made of the gods' reprise -
But with which logic sculptures a harsh but ethic heart,
And there are always winners in the age of glass.
As years get shorter I see a wiser way,
Old men have oceans, as humans have their fields of days.
Our wealth comes chiefly on how we choose to last -
Cause there are no riches in the age of glass
In the age of glass
In the age of glass
In the age of glass
In the age of glass