In the meantime, they hold on to their so called freedom
Eventually they get lost in time:

Friends leave, and still the same faces appear when you'd rather they didn't.
One after another they pass through the eye of the storm
Struggling for victory against the overwhelming odds
They grow old and the youth dismiss them
Brave faces of elderly men, with hints of the boy within, look back at what might have been
Laughing off the errors, but still feeling the pain.
Yet the battle continues, and time is spent trying to hold their head high
Working out ways to teach the old dog in them, new tricks. In vain.


In the meantime they hold on to their so called freedom.