When I was young I used to have a plastic sword that I wore in my belt And it felt just so right, was so brave and so nice so I hated to fight I was to wave it and slash at wicked beast and demons featured in my imaginational life But then, when I later got older I traded my sword for a pen and fought 'em again And life as I know wasn't smiling and laughing with joy Of course there are times when I just wanna smash and destroy and maybe I should The doors are locked, but they are just made out of wood, easy to break for people who hate But for some reason I'm choosing decent ways to deal with beasts and demons Feed 'em, make 'em see and bleed in paper sheets and whatch 'em glow with crazy heat I attack 'em through their mail-boxes and make 'em face defeat So what is there to say to the kids of today who are drifting away in dispair? Livin' in fear, all the sorrow that's sure to come tomorrow I try to begin by describing the pen's so much mightier then the sword And those are the words that I try to follow but deep down and below I feel that I don't know anymore But it doesn't matter 'cause bad is making me bored And wasting my time, that is something that I just can't afford And being stuck in slow motions is beginning to weaken my pale faith I'm playing chess with Death, and we're ending up stale mate
[Chorus x3] I'm older now, I'm getting bored of the swordplay I know the sound of slamming doors in the hallway They say it's colder now but still I'm warm as a geyser I know I'm older now, but I'm not so sure that I'm wiser