Shaving the hairs, hanging from my chin
Nobody cares, 'cept literary skin
They think it's deep, but I know I'm here in black and white
Red, blue, and green, those are shadows in the scene, daylight exists as night
Right, so where we going tonight?
If I was old, I would grow a beard
The kind that the young kids say looks so weird
And then I'm here, old as a prayer, in black and white
Right, I'm saying my lines, characterizing my old man fears