Ancient songs
The cards are on the table. The whiskey's in the glass
It's just a game of solitaire to help the hours passA smokey 100-watter illuminates the room
It's lonely there in paradise and quiet as a tomb
All his friends and family have long been blown away
By bitter winds of old age...he wonders why he stays
His sweetheart was the first to go, his love of 50 years
Then one by one his children...he's long run out of tears
Who will cry for him? Who will shed his tears?
The ticking of the clock is all that he can hear
Who will cry for him? Who will shed his tears?
He's joined the walking dead...it fast becomes my fear...
And as I look into his life there's one thing I have learned
I see myself as rusting out...I'd rather let it burn
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