The Good Old Days

What is the time?
Am I here or should have I been there?
Oh the day when I did not wear shackles
Was there ever such a day?
What is the time here?
Oh surly there was a time when heads were not filled with Iron
Shackled to the feet so we do not go any where quickly
Who did this to me?
When did this happen?
Oh I am just an old man and I can no longer lift my head
I just drag it with my eyes very close to the street
Ah how I wish to see a young man again who can still holds his head up high
What does he see?
Where is he going?
Oh this metal holds such little memory
My thoughts are heavy and hard to move
If I could see anything besides pebbles and bugs I doubt I would remember it
There is such little room for memory, they filled it all up
Who did this to me?
Why did they do this to me?
Oh it’s so hard to lift your head now days
And even if you could it still shackles your feet
Any thing you see ahead would be reached only after a long struggle
Ah…but nobody seems to go any where these days
Everything we need lies in front of our faces
What do I need?
Why do I need it?
What a horrible time it is.
Oh how I wish it were the good old days again
Oh how I wish to be in that place again
When it wasn’t like this, a place where I could look up
Was there ever another time than this one?
Where am I?
What is the time?