The children born of wealthy parents in life are advantaged
with a huge head start
Though money cannot buy one a good soul or give one a generous heart.
The future belong to the children that cannot be said now of me
My better days they are behind me each time I look in my mirror I see
A gray haired old bloke pushing sixty one might say I’ve seen a better day
I’ve earned my greyness and wrinkles to reach here I’ve come the hard way.
The future belong to the children time is on the side of the young
The songs about long dead war heroes are songs that are never more sung
Old age it is surely a punishment when aches and arthritis sets in
If you cannot win in your twenties you are never destined for to win.
The future belong to the children though the prime years of life go so fast
I was a young man of the sixties but now I’m a man of the past
The children of the wealthy parents have a huge advantage ‘twould seem
To be born and raised in the poor suburb cannot be good for one’s self esteem.

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