At 20, listening to "Old Boy" I hear "Dreams are always out of reach, should I give up?"

At 25, listening to "Old Boy" I hear "The figures of everyone rushing forward on their own paths, quickly drifting apart, where is the future in this ordinary life, ah who will give me the answer?"
At 30, listening to "Old Boy" I hear "Years have passed in the blink of an eye, how many separations and joys and sorrows in the world, once young and ambitious, envying the migrating geese southward."
At 40, listening to "Old Boy" I hear "Oh, those who once accompanied me, where are you now? The ones I loved before, what do they look like now?"
At 50, listening to "Old Boy" I hear "Life is like a ruthless carving knife, changing our appearance."
At 60, listening to "Old Boy" I hear "Did the original wishes come true? Now all that's left is to mourn."
At 70, listening to "Old Boy" I hear "Let the years dry out my ideals, I can never find the real me again."
At 80, listening to "Old Boy" I hear "Who will remember that this world once came here."