| [00:15.56] |
Old friends, old friends, |
| [00:23.18] |
Sat on their parkbench like bookends |
| [00:27.85] |
A newspaper blown through the grass |
| [00:31.55] |
Falls on the round toes |
| [00:34.54] |
of the high shoes of the old friends |
| [00:43.14] |
Old friends, winter companions, the old men |
| [00:52.18] |
Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sun |
| [00:56.36] |
The sounds of the city sifting through trees |
| [01:03.37] |
Settles like dust on the shoulders of the old friends |
| [01:12.35] |
Can you imagine us years from today, |
| [01:19.37] |
Sharing a parkbench quietly |
| [01:23.12] |
How terribly strange to be sevent |
| [01:27.41] |
Old friends, memory brushes the same years, |
| [01:38.24] |
Silently sharing the same fears |
