somebody said its great to be young.
he neglected the part about broken hearts,
the sad songs after they're sung.


took forever to get here, though the days flew
made it through tattered and scarred
in time, understanding and respect grew


reworked & designed, older & wiser:
its a subtle jungle to prowl in.
you'll know the whores by their eyes,
and the saints by their sin.


proud of my experience, I wear it well
once free and wild, the shrew grew tame,
still, livelier than ever, different,
though so much remains the same


you stay angry & drunk,
you stumble around blind.
you find a pretty ass & you beat it 
tough love is the only kind.


gone are the days of pretty pelts
prancing and preening
want a king for my jungle
not a cub still searching for meaning


I brushed away dusty leopard spots,
donned a shiny tiger-stripe coat.
I kissed my youth goodbye 
Its the last love song I wrote.