Simon & Garfunkel Follow

Old Friends
Old Friends
Sat on their park bench like bookends
A newspaper blown through the grass
Falls on the rounds toes
Of the high shoes
Of the old friends

Old Friends
Winter companions, the old men
Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sun
The sounds of the city sifting through 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 brushes the same years
Silently sharing the same fears

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