| [00:00.42] |
Old Friends |
| [00:14.52] |
Old friends, old friends, |
| [00:21.71] |
|
| [00:22.77] |
Sat on their parkbench like bookends |
| [00:26.52] |
|
| [00:27.90] |
A newspaper blown through the grass |
| [00:31.58] |
on Falls the round toes |
| [00:33.76] |
|
| [00:34.76] |
of the high shoes of the old friends |
| [00:39.32] |
|
| [00:42.32] |
Old friends, winter companions, the old men |
| [00:50.11] |
Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sun |
| [00:56.13] |
|
| [00:58.69] |
The sounds of the city sifting through trees |
| [01:03.32] |
Settles like dust on the shoulders of the old friends |
| [01:11.44] |
|
| [01:13.87] |
Can you imagine us years from today, |
| [01:17.82] |
|
| [01:18.44] |
Sharing a parkbench quietly |
| [01:22.37] |
|
| [01:23.12] |
How terribly strange to be sevent |
| [01:27.25] |
|
| [01:29.19] |
Old friends, memory brushes the same years, |
| [01:37.44] |
Silently sharing the same fears |
