I will never love a young boy again
Come back in 5, 10 years and we'll get married then
But I will never love a young boy again
800 months older than him, am I
In my hands, he is a bar of soap
Oh these hours of letting of him go
These hours of letting go, you
Oh these hours of letting of him go
These hours of letting go
I'd like to hang you up in a tree, and let you age there
Listen to the leaves, and move with the wind
I am 100 years, in my hands
I want to bear [?]
Oh these hours of letting him go
These hours of letting go, you
These hours of letting go