When the spring no longer blooms for you
And most your good times appear to be through
After it's gone, only then will you see
All that it meant to be young and free
And when in the cry of a mournin' dove
You hear the words lost with the ones that you love
Then everything rolls into a memory
Of all that it meant to be young and free
And when the day is a distant sound
And most of your friends are no longer around
You'll sit in the silence and think longingly
Of all that it meant to be young and free