Here is the Eli Yates song

THE NEXT TIME I'M YOUNG

My shopping cart sings on the cold morning pavement
Searching for dreams and aluminum cans
I catch my reflection in the shuttered up windows
And wonder how I ever got as old as I am.
The street has no markers -- it's just a river of concrete
Mile after mile, year after year.
I reckon I remember but I can't for the life of me
Understand how I ended up here.

Chorus:

And the next time I'm young I'll do it all different
I'll make the right moves and I'll make the right plans
And I'll have me a family and a good job to go to
And a house with a driveway where I park the sedan
And I'll never be poor and I'll never go hungry
And I'll wear fancy clothes out on my promenade
And I'll sit at the table as long as I want to
And I'll shut my own door at the end of the day.

Somewhere in a pocket of this greasy old backpack
Is a magazine picture of an old country town
Where there isn't much concrete, lots of good grass to walk on
And bushels of children running around.
The folks seem so friendly all smiling and waving,
Covered in sunshine as they walk to the fair.
As darkness crawls over me down in the alley
I wonder if someday I can maybe live there.