No more tears, my heart is dryI don't laugh and I don't cryI don't think about you all the timeBut when I do -- I wonder whyYou have to go out of my doorAnd leave just like you did beforeI know I said that I was sureBut rich men can't imagine poor.One day baby, we'll be oldOh baby, we'll be oldAnd think about the stories that we could have toldLittle me and little youKept doing all the things they doThey never really think it throughLike I can never think you're trueHere I go again -- the blameThe guilt, the pain, the hurt, the shameThe founding fathers of our planeThat's stuck in heavy clouds of rain.One day baby, we'll be oldOh baby, we'll be oldAnd think of all the stories that we could have told.