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Where are all my old friends? |
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It's been a long time gone |
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We've been drifting apart for so many years |
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I hope they're still marching on |
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Some are probably happy with families |
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Working hard to get ahead |
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Some of them are lost, some are wandering |
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Some of them are already dead |
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Who do you think you are? It's the life you made |
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Don't be afraid of the hands you played |
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There's an old man sleeping in a parking lot |
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I wonder what he dreams about |
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Businessmen in suits taking meetings over coffee |
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Trying to buy each other out |
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There's an officer, a senator, a digger |
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And a sewer, a beggar and a thief |
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They all sit at different tables |
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But they drink the same poison as me |
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Who do you think you are? It's the life you made |
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Don't be afraid of the hands you played |
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Who do you think you are? It's the life that you made |
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Don't be afraid of the hands you played |
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Well, the power went out and the stars came out |
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And I went out for a walk in the dark |
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There were fireflies flitting and I heard the poets spitting |
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Rhymes out in the park |
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And I felt myself drift up off the ground |
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And I rose above the trees |
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And I saw my life in photographs of faded memories |
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Who do you think you are? It's the life that you made |
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Don't be afraid of the hands you played |
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Who do you think you are? It's the life that you made |
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Don't be afraid of the hands you played |
