Change is the beat of a drum

Nothing expected from the entrance of adolescence

Time marches along, numb

 

The tenth year, nothing will ever be colored bubble gum

A panic… yet even so, the love of live makes a presence

Change is the beat of a drum

 

The eleventh year, everything falls apart and I begin to succumb

To the leak of knowledge, but decide to stream through the fluorescence

Time marches along, numb

 

Brightness flows out, but murk comes

A one, two, three, reminder of life’s dripping essence 

Change is the beat of a drum

 

The twelfth year, the instrument’s final strum

Is the feeling maturation? Or is it simple obsolescence?

Time marches along, numb

 

A school isn’t everything, and realization pricks my thumbs

Nothing wicked on the horizon, only joy in my acceptance

Change is the beat of a drum

Time marches along, finally won