It's often hard to understand
From where the other comes.
It may seem as if we're marching
To the beat of different drums.
The songs I like, some things I do,
The way I cut my hair,
Must seem to you as very dull
Just as the clothes I wear.
Your youth is now...a different day
Than days when I was young.
Some things I never dreamed would be
Are things you live among.
But all the things that matter, son,
Are still the same today.
If only those we understand,
The rest shall fade away.
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