Time, time, t | | ime, see what's bec ome of me
|
While I | looked around | | for my possibi lities.
|
I was so | hard to please.
|
but look a| round,
Leaves are | brown,
And the | sky is a h| azy shade of wi| nter.
|
Hear the Salvation | Army band.
| |
Down by the riverside,
|
it's bound to be a better ride
Than | what you've got pla | nned.
Carry your | cup in your hand.
|
|
And look a| round,
Leaves are | brown,
And the | sky is a h| azy shade of wi| nter.
|
Hang on to your | hopes, my friend.
| |
That's an easy thing to say,
| |
But if your hopes should pass away
Simply pretend | | that you can b uild them again.
|
Look a| round,
The grass is | high,
The fields are | ripe,
It's the | springtime of my l| ife.
| | |
Seasons change with the | scener |
y;
Weaving time in a | tapestry.
|
Won't you stop and re| member | |
me
At any con | | venient time?
Funny how my memory skips
|
While looking over manuscripts
Of | unpublished rhyme.
|
Drinking my | vodka and lime,
|
I look a| round,
Leaves are | brown now,
And the | sky is a h| azy shade of wi| nter.
Look | around,
Leaves are | brown,
There s a | patch of snow on the g| round |