Time Songtext
von Bobby Bare

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