Old man time is a rare old man
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For a young man he'll ever remain,
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With his long grey beard and his clothes are plain
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Oh Old Man Time is his name.
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As one flower dies
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The old mand he cries
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The young man he plants the seeds again
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With a careful hand, he tends the sand,
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Oh, Old Man Time is his name.
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This old man has an hourglass
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For every sould on the land.
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Oh, Old Man Time, I have seen mine,
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It's the one with the fastest sand.
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No sooner is it turned,
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Back through the glass it's churned,
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I'm wishing i could have each hour again,
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With a careful hand, he tends the sand,
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Oh, Old Man Time is his name.
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To me, Old Man, your time is rare,
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Did God not give you all my sand?
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Or maybe mine I had to share
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Or is there some left in your hand?
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They tell me tine is gold, well maybe it's been sold,
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Or was it simply washed away in rain?
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With a careful hand, he tends the sand,
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Oh, Old Man Time is his name.
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If I brought him a sack,
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Do you think he'd put some back?
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I know one day across my path he'll come,
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But as for now, I can't say how,
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I know that old man's work is far from done.
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For Old Man Time has just begun.
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Old Man Time
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| Kate Rusby |
