Our Forgotten Neverlands

Ticketty-ticketty-ticketty-tock
Time, it bites on our heels like the croc with the clock
We all need to fly, we’d get caught if we walked
But we bartered our wings for grown-up shoes and old socks

As we age we lose sight of our own Neverlands
The world loses its luster, colors faded and bland
Life ceases to be an adventure, the idolization of trends
And we mindlessly run on, waiting for the madness to end

Where are our yesterdays?