Laurika Rauch - The Old Folks
THE OLD FOLKS DON'T TALK MUCH
AND THEY TALK SO SLOWLY WHEN THEY DO
THEY ARE RICH THEY ARE POOR
THEIR ILLUSIONS ARE GONE
THEY SHARE ONE HEART FOR TWO
THEIR HOMES ALL SMELL OF TIME
OF OLD PHOTOGRAPHS AND AN OLD-FASHIONED SONG
THOUGH YOU MAY LIVE IN TOWN
YOU LIVE SO FAR AWAY
WHEN YOU'VE LIVED TOO LONG
AND HAVE THEY LAUGHED TOO MUCH
DO THEIR DRY VOICES CRACK TALKING OF TIMES GONE BY
AND HAVE THEY CRIED TOO MUCH
A TEAR OR TWO STILL ALWAYS
SEEMS TO CLOUD THE EYE
THEY TREMBLE AS THEY WATCH
THE OLD SILVER CLOCK
WHEN DAY IS THROUGH
IT TICK-TOCKS OH SO SLOW
IT SAYS "YES" IT SAYS "NO"
IT SAYS: "I'LL WAIT FOR YOU"
THE OLD FOLKS DREAM NO MORE
THE BOOKS HAVE GONE TO SLEEP THE PIANO'S OUT OF TUNE
THE LITTLE CAT IS DEAD
AND NO MORE DO THEY SING
ON A SUNDAY AFTERNOON
THE OLD FOLKS MOVE NO MORE
THEIR WORLD'S BECOME TOO SMALL THEIR BODIES FEEL LIKE LEAD
THEY MIGHT LOOK OUT THE WINDOW
OR ELSE SIT IN A CHAIR
OR ELSE THEY STAY IN BED
AND IF THEY STILL GO OUT
ARM IN ARM, ARM IN ARM, IN THE MORNING'S CHILL
IT'S TO HAVE A GOOD CRY
TO SAY THEIR LAST GOOD BYE
TO ONE WHO'S OLDER STILL
AND THEN THEY GO HOME
TO THE OLD SILVER CLOCK
WHEN DAY IS THROUGH
IT TICK TOCKS OH SO SLOW
IT SAYS "YES" IT SAYS "NO"
IT SAYS: I'LL WAIT FOR YOU
THE OLD FOLKS NEVER DIE
THEY JUST PUT DOWN THEIR HEADS AND GO TO SLEEP ONE DAY
THEY HOLD EACH OTHER'S HANDS
LIKE CHILDREN IN THE DARK
BUT ONE WILL GET LOST ANYWAY
AND THE OTHER WILL REMAIN
JUST SITTING IN THAT ROOM WHICH MAKES NO SOUND
IT DOESN'T MATTER NOW
THE SONG HAS DIED AWAY
AND ECHOES ALL AROUND
YOU'LL SEE THEM WHEN THEY WALK
THROUGH THE SUN-FILLED PARK WHERE CHILDREN RUN AND PLAY
IT HURTS TOO MUCH TO SMILE
IT HURTS TOO MUCH BUT LIFE
GOES ON FOR STILL ANOTHER DAY
AS THEY TRY TO ESCAPE
THE OLD SILVER CLOCK
WHEN DAY IS THROUGH
IT TICK-TOCKS OH SO SLOW
IT SAYS "YES" IT SAYS "NO",
IT SAYS:"I'LL WAIT FOR YOU"
THE OLD,OLD SILVER CLOCK
THAT'S HANGING ON THE WALL
THAT WAITS FOR US ALL
AND THEY TALK SO SLOWLY WHEN THEY DO
THEY ARE RICH THEY ARE POOR
THEIR ILLUSIONS ARE GONE
THEY SHARE ONE HEART FOR TWO
THEIR HOMES ALL SMELL OF TIME
OF OLD PHOTOGRAPHS AND AN OLD-FASHIONED SONG
THOUGH YOU MAY LIVE IN TOWN
YOU LIVE SO FAR AWAY
WHEN YOU'VE LIVED TOO LONG
AND HAVE THEY LAUGHED TOO MUCH
DO THEIR DRY VOICES CRACK TALKING OF TIMES GONE BY
AND HAVE THEY CRIED TOO MUCH
A TEAR OR TWO STILL ALWAYS
SEEMS TO CLOUD THE EYE
THEY TREMBLE AS THEY WATCH
THE OLD SILVER CLOCK
WHEN DAY IS THROUGH
IT TICK-TOCKS OH SO SLOW
IT SAYS "YES" IT SAYS "NO"
IT SAYS: "I'LL WAIT FOR YOU"
THE OLD FOLKS DREAM NO MORE
THE BOOKS HAVE GONE TO SLEEP THE PIANO'S OUT OF TUNE
THE LITTLE CAT IS DEAD
AND NO MORE DO THEY SING
ON A SUNDAY AFTERNOON
THE OLD FOLKS MOVE NO MORE
THEIR WORLD'S BECOME TOO SMALL THEIR BODIES FEEL LIKE LEAD
THEY MIGHT LOOK OUT THE WINDOW
OR ELSE SIT IN A CHAIR
OR ELSE THEY STAY IN BED
AND IF THEY STILL GO OUT
ARM IN ARM, ARM IN ARM, IN THE MORNING'S CHILL
IT'S TO HAVE A GOOD CRY
TO SAY THEIR LAST GOOD BYE
TO ONE WHO'S OLDER STILL
AND THEN THEY GO HOME
TO THE OLD SILVER CLOCK
WHEN DAY IS THROUGH
IT TICK TOCKS OH SO SLOW
IT SAYS "YES" IT SAYS "NO"
IT SAYS: I'LL WAIT FOR YOU
THE OLD FOLKS NEVER DIE
THEY JUST PUT DOWN THEIR HEADS AND GO TO SLEEP ONE DAY
THEY HOLD EACH OTHER'S HANDS
LIKE CHILDREN IN THE DARK
BUT ONE WILL GET LOST ANYWAY
AND THE OTHER WILL REMAIN
JUST SITTING IN THAT ROOM WHICH MAKES NO SOUND
IT DOESN'T MATTER NOW
THE SONG HAS DIED AWAY
AND ECHOES ALL AROUND
YOU'LL SEE THEM WHEN THEY WALK
THROUGH THE SUN-FILLED PARK WHERE CHILDREN RUN AND PLAY
IT HURTS TOO MUCH TO SMILE
IT HURTS TOO MUCH BUT LIFE
GOES ON FOR STILL ANOTHER DAY
AS THEY TRY TO ESCAPE
THE OLD SILVER CLOCK
WHEN DAY IS THROUGH
IT TICK-TOCKS OH SO SLOW
IT SAYS "YES" IT SAYS "NO",
IT SAYS:"I'LL WAIT FOR YOU"
THE OLD,OLD SILVER CLOCK
THAT'S HANGING ON THE WALL
THAT WAITS FOR US ALL
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