Lyrics:

Old friends
Old friends
Sat on their park bench like bookends
A newspaper blown through the grass
Falls on the round toes of the high shoes
Of the old friends

Old friends
Winter companions, the old men
Lost in their overcoats
Waiting for the sunset
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 seventy

Old friends
Memory brushes the same years
Silently sharing the same fears