Only The Lucky Grow Old

This song was written during the first week of the fall 2025 songwriting group. I was already making progress on another song when this one came to me very quickly one night. I remember having a long day and getting very sick from some sort of caffeinated beverage in the evening. I was running sound at our local venue and sitting at the bar after the show when I had a conversation with an older man – he was at least twice my age. He said jokingly at some point, “I hope I stay young forever.”

In that moment I felt three things at once: the awareness of my own youth sitting there next to him – I was just 33 years old. Then the awareness of friends who didn’t live much longer than I have, or barely made it past 33. Then the awareness that he was once my age and lived many more years that for me are probable at best, not guaranteed. I felt almost envious in that moment, realizing that I may have the gift of youth in his eyes, but he had the gift of time – time that some friends did not have, and I may not have. With all of this in mind, I replied, “Only the lucky grow old.” As soon as the phrase came to my mind and I spoke those words, I had this feeling: “That’s a good line!”

After we wrapped up that conversation, I made my way home and the closer I got to the house, the more the caffeine-induced headache intensified. During that short drive, the melody and lines just started coming to me one after the other, and I sang them into my phone as I climbed up the hill. As soon as I got into the house and fed the dogs and cats, I retreated to my room where I shut the door and shut off all the lights. With this headache pounding, I sat down and worked out the entire song in the dark, line by line, working towards the line that inspired the whole thing.

I was writing about all the things that were weighing heavy on my mind at that time: struggling financially, in serious debt, drowning under the weight of many responsibilities, while also looking at losing essential benefits, and all the while reflecting on the young friends who have lost everything and my own feelings of guilt and regret. The song ended up taking an ironic position – we are the lucky ones who are still here, still breathing, still going, growing older – yet we’re here spending our precious luck stressing about survival.

After finishing the last lines, I laid down and slept for 10 hours.

One more letter
Written halfway
Crumbled up
Thrown away
Just a taste to tease the heart ache

If there’s a cure
I ain’t gonna find it
I never called back
My therapist
When they canceled twice
I tossed their card away

Come new years I won’t be insured
Word came down from the billionaires
They won’t keep floating a broke down bum like me
When I shoulda been working I was on the road
I came home when I had nowhere else to go
I’ve gone broke again seeing how far I could bend

That little squiggle scratched on the line
On paper with the land and the man
My name is not my name but if I don’t pay
They could take it all away
Take it all away

I miss the simple days
I miss sleeping on the side of the road
I miss having no home no car no guitars no phone

If I could go back
I’d gather up the letters I tossed
Package them and send em to the friends I’ve lost
I had one chance and I’ve never been bold
Only the lucky grow old

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One last thing I would like to share about this song is a recording from my good friend Liam Warden, who sent me a piano and vocal rendition just days after I first recorded it and sent it to him. I prefer his version to my own, and it made me appreciate the song so much more.