Time's run it's course and freed
the horse
That pulled him through his prime
And placed a different light above his brow.
Now towering rows of buildings grow
In fields he left behind
And life seems twice as heavy as a plow.
With his golden chain the old man
clings
To the watch inside his vest
That tells him when it's time to move along.
Just rambling through the avenues
He'll sometimes stop to rest
But it's hard to find a place where he belongs.
So crowd around the corner boys
And take your good ole time
And pass along a piece of yesterday.
A tender breeze of memories
Is blowing through your mind
Softer than those stands of silver-gray...
And sweeter than the things we've seen today.
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