The old folks donand'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 youand'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 iand'll wait for you
The old folks dream no more, the book have gone to sleep and the pianoand's out of tune
the little cat is dead and no more do they sing on a sunday afternoon
they old folks move no more, the worldand'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 chill
itand's to have a good cry, to say their last goodbye to one whoand'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 iand'll wait for you
The old folks never die, they just put down their heads and go to sleep one day
they hold each otherand's hand, like children in the dark but one would get lost anyway
and the other will remain just sitting in a room which makes no sound
it doesnand't matter now, the song has died away and echoes all around
Youand'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 iand'll wait for you
The old, old silver clock
thatand's hanging on the wall
that waits for us all
