Because I'll die with you.
We both got old, before our time:
the world wants something new.
And so it goes, and so do we,
and time just rolls along,
and it rolls over you, and me.
Old woman. Older song.
So sing me now. Oh, sing your fill.
Before we cease to be.
Songs, my sisters, are sung still
but no one else sings me.
Being sung forever was my plan.
But the bloom went off the rose.
Sing me, please, because you can.
For you're the last who knows.
I still could be immortal, dear.
We're different, you and I:
Sing me, please, so someone hears --
For I don't want to die.