Too Old To Dream [Version 4]

[Verse 1] I’m stuck in years that never seem to fit, a coat too heavy, pulling bit by bit. I once made worlds with nothing but a sigh, now every thought feels tired, walking dry. The room tastes old, like rain that never falls, and something in me beats against the walls. Each step rehearsed, each feeling thin, the kid I was is somewhere deep within. [Pre-Chorus] The mirror shows me, but not my face — just someone trying to fill the space. [Chorus] Too worn to dream, too weighed to rise, the days keep stitching lines across the skies. What’s left of me when dusk draws near? A name half-whispered, trying to appear. A heart that mumbles though it doesn’t speak, a path that bends but never finds its peak. [Verse 2] I turned my hours into blocks and plans, forgot the softness in my own two hands. My thoughts became a list I had to meet, my joy got lost somewhere between the heat. I traded color for a steady pace, forgot the shape of my own face. Dreams slipped quiet, fell out of view, I held to things I never grew. [Pre-Chorus] The ticking blames me, it cuts right through — for all I kept and never knew. [Chorus] Too worn to dream, too weighed to rise, the days keep stitching lines across the skies. What’s left of me when dusk draws near? A name half-whispered, trying to appear. A heart that mumbles though it doesn’t speak, a path that bends but never finds its peak. [Bridge] So many mornings felt thin and cold, so many nights felt already old. But somewhere quiet, a younger voice keeps calling out, like it had no choice. Maybe it’s time to change the tune, step out from rooms that end too soon. Maybe there’s warmth in what remains, a lighter road beyond the stains. [Verse 3] I see him clearer every day — the boy I lost along the way. He holds my hand, not strong but sure, as if he knows what I endure. Maybe it’s late, or maybe right, maybe it’s worth another light. If I fall again, I won’t fall alone — he walks with me toward the unknown. [Final Chorus] Too worn to dream? Maybe not yet. Maybe hope’s a seed I once forget. And though the years keep writing slow, there’s still a place I want to go. That kid inside still speaks my name, and leads me past the weight and shame. [Outro] Too old, too tired — maybe tonight. But morning comes and shifts the light.