Old Folks

You'll always hear me say Hello Ma'am

Thank you

Good morning

Looking fine

It's all those old folks left here waiting

That leapt my heart into my mind



It's a sad, sad feeling

To still be around



On every sunny Sunday morning

All golden-aged and sittin' in

Comes out to putter in the sunshine

And shuffle through his deck of bein'



It's a sad, sad feeling

To still be around

And it's the same old tired park bench

Nobody's found



Soft wrinkled stories if you listen

About the lazy days back when

Your mom and dad were little babies

And he had friends still livin' then



It's a sad, sad feeling

To still be around

And it's the same old tired park bench

Nobody's found

And there was a tree put there for shading

That they cut down



The fields he loved got turned to highways

From horse to car to plane to moon

Staying well meant that he feels older

Yet none of his kids have the room



It's a sad, sad feeling

To still be around

And it's the same old tired park bench

Nobody's found

There was a tree put there for shading

That they cut down

And his old shoes

Had worn a spot there

From grass to ground