NAME OF THE GAME (© Words and music by Paul F. Cowlan)

There’s a Latin saying, ‘The autumn of the beautiful is beautiful.’ Maybe, but it’s never an easy transition.

Catch her if you can. You're a lucky man, if she loves you.
A firebrand with the world in her hand; and she knows it too.
Time is behind her, but she's not living in the past.
If you want to find her, then you'd better move fast.

She can hide, living on the other side, most of the time.
And she can say what you've got to pay for 'Yours is yours, and mine is mine!'
She doesn't wait for the answers to come knocking at the door.
She says, "You've got to take chances, if you want a little bit more."

But even though she flies with the moon in her eyes, the years are turning.
And when you look around you can hear the sound of bridges burning.
Every minute is a token of the old and the new,
But if the channels are open, well, you should get through.

Twenty years on she's invisible, nobody sees her there.
It's not as if they don't want to know, it's just that they can't compare her
to the woman that she was when the lightning used to take fire from her eyes,
But that's in the past, and it's frightening when you've got to compromise.

But she's more than just a pretty face, and one fine day she turns away
from the mirror, with a sigh, and a tear in her eye, and says. "That's okay.
You've got to move with the changes. Nothing ever stays the same.
You learn a lot where the pain is. That's the name of the game."