I am not free.

Listening to old music makes me feel strange
Don't talk to me about time in decades
It used to be about single years, which was best
And which was next; but now it all seems meaningless
With the darkening of age

It's not that the world is beneath contempt
I just don't understand it much anymore
And I've gotten so used to the feeling of stress
That tranquility's an unreachable shore
And still every day bring more

So let them burn their fires down on quarter-mile
And if you get a chance light one for me
Cause I've been grabbed by the chest like all
The rest, in the river of time to go
Where all men go. And no, I am not free.