9 years old to 89 (Man in the Middle)

[Intro] (Steady acoustic guitar plucking, soft harmonica) [Verse 1] It’s 1979 and the asphalt’s bubbling up Drinking lukewarm water from a garden hose I’m nine years old with a scab on my knee Looking at the man I’m supposed to be I promised him then, through the sweat and the dust We’d never trade the magic for a paycheck and stardust I was king of the wheelie, I was bulletproof then Just waiting for the world to let me in [Chorus] I’m caught in the middle of a two-way stare Between the kid in the grass and the ghost in the chair One’s got a dream, one’s got the truth And I’m just the bridge between the age and the youth I gotta make 'em proud, gotta hold the line For the boy of nine and the man of eighty-nine [Verse 2] Thirty-five hits like a hammer on steel Learning real quick how the "real world" feels In a waiting room chair, praying "not today" Watching the colors of my life turn gray It ain't a movie, there’s no violins Just the smell of floor wax and original sins I thought about the kid, would he recognize me? With this tie 'round my neck and my soul on one knee [Chorus] I’m caught in the middle of a two-way stare Between the kid in the grass and the ghost in the chair One’s got a dream, one’s got the truth And I’m just the bridge between the age and the youth I gotta make 'em proud, gotta hold the line For the boy of nine and the man of eighty-nine [Bridge] [Crescendo] (Music builds—distorted electric guitar, layered percussion, driving tempo) The years are a blur of the powder and the paint Trying to be a provider, trying not to be a saint The clock is a ghost, the calendar’s a lie "100 Years" goes by in the blink of an eye I’m losing my hair, I’m gaining my stride Just trying to keep the nine-year-old alive! [Big Finish] [Verse 3] [Minimalist] (Music drops to a single, steady bass thud—like a heartbeat) Now the porch is quiet and the tea is cold There’s a different kind of silver in the gray and the gold I’m eighty years deep, looking back down the track At the boy in the creek who ain't looking back He’s smiling at me, through the wrinkles and the bone Because I never left him standing there alone We kept the wonder, we weathered the storm And the seat in the chair is finally warm [Outro] (Distant harmonica, fading acoustic guitar) [End]