Old friends 
Old friends 
Sat on their park bench 
Like bookends 
newspaper blown through the grass 
Falls on the round toes 
Of the high shoes 
Of the old friends 
 [bad word] 
The old men 
Lost in their overcoats 
Waiting for the sunset 
The sounds of the city 
Sifting through the trees 
Settle like dust 
On the shoulders 
Of the old friends 

Can you imagine us 
Years from today 
Sharing a park bench quietly? 
How terribly strange 
To be seventy 

Old friends 
Memory [bad word] the same years 
Silently sharing the same fear... 

Time it was, and what a time it was, it was 
time of innocence, time of confidences 
Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph 
Preserve your memories; They`re all that`s left you