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The old folks don't talk much
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

Have they laughed too much
Do their dry voices crack
talking of things gone by
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
tick tock oh so slow
It says yes it says no
It says I wait for you

The old folks dream no more
Their 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 become too small
their bodies feel like lead
they might look out a window
or else sit it a chair
or else they stay in bed

and if they still go out
arm in arm, arm in arm
in the morning chill
its to have a good cry
to say their last goodbye
to one who's older still
and then they go home
to the old silver clock
when day is through
tick tocks oh so slow
it says yes it says no
it says I wait for you

the old folks never die
they just put down their heads
and go to sleep one day
they will hold each others hands
like children in the dark
but one will get lost anyway
and the other will remain
just sitting in a room
which makes no sound
it doesn't matter now
the song has died away
and echoes all around

you'll see them as they walk
through the sun filled parks
where children run and play
it hurst too much to smile
it hurts so much
but life goes on for still another day
as they try to escape the old silver clock
when day is through
tick tocks oh so slow
it says yes it says no
it says I wait for you

the old old silver clock
thats hanging on the wall
that waits for us all

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