Old Friends
Old friends, old friendsSat on their park bench like bookendsA newspaper blown through the grassFalls on the ground toesOh the high shoesOf the old friends
Old friendsWinter companions, the old menLost in their overcoatsWaiting for the sunThe sounds of the citySifting through treesSettle like dustOn the shouldersOf the old friends
Can you imagine is years from todaySharing a park bench quietly?How terribly strange to be seventy
Old friendsMemory brushes the same yearsSilently sharing the same fears
Time it was and what a time it wasIt was a time of innocenceA time of confidencesLong ago it must beI have a photographPreserve your memoriesThey're all that's left you