Everybody, everybody’s talking here, music doesn’t seem the same..only songs from the youth. Kids don’t sing the same tunes, they don’t find words for my troubles..troubles we all knew. Generations follow, follow my generation, following the generations before..we all came in this way, now, we’re all out the same door. I can’t find the reason, reason why we run..run from the same ghosts that spooked our folks, yeah, they’re the same, same, never change. We’re chasing them, chasing down roads that run to nowhere..to the next dream of love? Winters come and go, it’s here now, with cold echoes of the past. Somehow we all know, they won’t last..put in another piece of wood. Soon, summer will be here; and girls in bathing-suits will measure the days. And Beach Boys will play songs that solve all the problems..no worries, ever. Again.