You're married when you're twenty
soon you're busy with three kids,
time goes by.
You quickly find out
there's no time to laugh
there 's not even time to cry.
Between the dishes and the floors
your life belongs
to all your chores
and when an earthquake hits the streets
you'll be ironing some sheets.

The coffee boils,
the kids are playing
and your husband's in his chair
protected by the New York Times,
the years are fading into air.
You send the kids to school today
you watch them grow and move away.
Why must the sands of time pour down,
the photo of your youth turns brown.

Yes, she's alive,
but is she living?
Would you be strong enough to try
to live her life and never cry,
day in -day out, time passed her by.

And Sunday is the day
you press his three-piece-suits,
at night you stop,
some flowers in the vase
They look so lovely till they drop.

You spend a lifetime on the go
and where you're going you don 't know
you travel kitchens, bedrooms, halls
a lifelong trip between four walls.

Yes, she's alive
but is she living?
Would you be strong enough to try
to live her life and never cry
day in -day out, yes, she's alive
but is she living?
Would you be strong enough to try
to live her live and never cry
day in -day out, time passed her by.

Time passed her by