Time

But where do old folks go on Saturday night? Well, the Coca-Cola ads and the movies and the TV shows They don't talk too much about that Maybe Saturday night is just for the young Anyway, talk to that old man sitting in that all night cafe, eating corn flakes Or maybe just sit down and listen and let him talk to you Ain't the snow falling just a bit deeper these days? Ain't they're building the stairs a bit steeper these days? And the town's really changing in so many ways Time, son, time He said, "You young folks, you're growing exceptionally tall And the newspaper print is becoming so small And folks talk so soft, you can barely hear at all It's time, boy, time" And the jokes aren't as witty as the old jokes once were And the girls ain't half as pretty as I remember her And today, on the bus, a grown man called me sir It's time, son, time And he said, "You know, I ain't quite as anxious for fame or success And my eye finds the girl in the plain simple dress And I cling a bit longer to each warm caress And that's time, boy, time" So it takes a bit longer to walk up a hill Hell, what of it if my life now is much more fulfill But they're tearing down buildings that I watched them build It's time, son, time Yeah, you'll get there too, son, if you stay healthy All I gotta say, boy, you live long enough You get old Thank you all so much Yeah Okay