Old friends, old friends, Sat on the parkbench like bookends A newspaper blown through the grass Falls on the round toes Of the high shoes of the old friends Old friends, winter companions, the old men Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sunset The sound of the city sifting through trees Settles like dust on the shoulders of the old friends Can you imagine us years from today Sharing a parkbench quietly How terrribly strange to be seventy Old friends, memory brushes the same years Sliently sharing the same fears.
[00:14.300] Old friends, old friends, [00:20.300] Sat on the parkbench like bookends [00:24.300] A newspaper blown through the grass [00:27.300] Falls on the round toes [00:34.300]Of the high shoes of the old friends [00:45.300] Old friends, winter companions, the old men [00:51.300] Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sunset [00:58.300] The sound of the city sifting through trees [01:06.300] Settles like dust on the shoulders of the old friends [01:13.300] Can you imagine us years from today [01:19.300] Sharing a parkbench quietly [01:23.300] How terrribly strange to be seventy [01:35.300] Old friends, memory brushes the same years [01:42.300] Sliently sharing the same fears.
