Old Friends, Old Friends... Sat on their park bench, like bookends. A newspaper blow through the grass falls on the round toes on 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 this old... 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.
Can you imagine us years from today, sharing a park bench quietly? How terribly strange to be this old... 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.
[Simon & Garfunkel]
Manel-Zé Madeira
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário