Old Folks

The old folks don't talk much

And they talk so slowly when they do

They are rich, they are poor, their illusions are gone

They share one haeart for two

Their homes all smell of thyme, of old photographs

And an old-fashioned song

Though you may live in town you live so far away

When you've lived too long

And have they laughed too much, do their dry voices crack

Talking of times gone by

And have they cried too much, a tear or two

Still always seems to cloud the eye

They tremble as they watch the old silver clock

When day is through

It tick-tocks oh so slow, it says, "Yes," it says, "No"

It says, "I'll wait for you."

The old folks dream no more

The books have gone to sleep, the piano's out of tune

The little cat is dead and no more do they sing

On a Sunday afternoon

The old folks move no more, their world's become too small

Their bodies feel like lead

They might look out the window or else sit in a chair

Or else they stay in bed

And if they still go out, arm in arm, arm in arm

In the morning's chill

It's to have a good cry, to say their last good-bye

To one who's older still

And then they go home to the old silver clock

When day is through

It tick-tocks oh so slow, it says, "Yes," it says, "No"

It says, "I'll wait for you."

The old folks never die

They just put down their heads and go to sleep one day

They hold each other's hand like children in the dark

But one will get lost anyway

And the other will remain just sitting in that room

Which makes no sound

It doesn't matter now, the song has died away

And echoes all around

You'll see them when they walk through the sun-filled park

Where children run and play

It hurts too much to smile, it hurts too much but life goes on

For still another day

As they try to escape the old silver clock

When day is through

It tick-tocks oh so slow, it says, "Yes," it says, "No"

It says, "I'll wait for you."

The old, old silver clock that's hanging on the wall

That waits for us

All