wasn t it yesterday i was eight years old i had a pocket full of rocks that i knew were made of solid gold there were girls to be hated trees to be climbed forts to be built there was so much time it s good to be alive it s good to be alive there s nothing in the world like being fifteen your pockets are empty but your head is full of dreams of girls to be loved of places to see it s the best and the worst just my friends and me and we re anything we want to be and it s good to be alive to feel the wind in my face see the blue in the sky it s days like this i realize what a gift it is it s good to be alive well i wonder what this day will see will i find my dreams or stare in the face of tragedy whatever may come whatever may be of this i am sure i m forgiven and free and i will live like i believe whatever may come whatever may be of this i am sure i m forgiven and free and i will live like i believe 