When I was just a boy I knew everything.
I had lots of good friends.
My telephone would always ring.
We would get together and go out,
check out the local fairs.
We all had each other, but
what was upstairs?

We were young and invincible,
with nothing but love to share.
But as we walked through the crowds,
everyone would stop and stare.

To the elders we were trouble,
because we all had long hair.
When they would meet us, they would treat us,
like we had nothing upstairs.

My dad always told me his advice was always free.
So would you please listen, just listen to me?
Don't do anything stupid. Don't do anything rash.
Never let your mind write a check
that your back just can't cash.

We were going to change the future.
We had plans to change the world.
Me and my friends. Me and my girl.
But time slipped away and oh how fast.
And soon the future quickly became the past.

Life was no longer a game of musical chairs.
Now we are older. What's left upstairs?
So now I'm in the basement,
down here where it's quiet and cool.
Sitting here all alone and feeling blue.

Time for some thinking.
Time to reflect.
No noise to distract me.
No time for neglect.
Away from everybody. Does anybody care?
Is it right? Is it true? Is there nothing, nothing upstairs?