Words and music by Roger Taylor. It's the sad eyed goodbye. Yesterday's moments I remember. It's the bleak streetweek kneed partings I recall. It's the mistier mists the hazier days. The brighter sun and the easier lays. There's all the more reason for laughing and crying. When you're younger and life isn't to hard at all. It's the fantastic drowse. Of the afternoon Sundays. That bored you to rages of tears. The unending pleadings. To waste all your good times. In thoughts of your middle-aged years. It's the vertical hold all the things that you're told. For the everyday hero it all turns to zero. And there's all the more reason. For living or dying when you're young. And your troubles are all very small. Out here on the street we'd gather and meet. And scuff up the sidewalk. With endlessly restless feet. Half on the time we'd broaden our minds. More in the pool hall. Than we did in the school hall. With the down town chewing gum bums. Watching the night life the lights and the fun. Never wanted to be the boy next door. Always thought I'd be something more. But it ain't easy for a small town boy. It ain't easy at all. Thinkin' it right and doin' it wrong. It's easier from an arm chair. Waves of alternatives wash over my sleepiness. Have my eggs poached for breakfast I guess. I think I'll be Clint Eastwood. Jimi Hendrix he was good. Let's try William the Conqueror