(Richard Stekol)
|
|
John and Lucky saw me off
|
The whistle called the times
|
Just six days out to the coast
|
Just six days behind
|
But I've seen every state since then
|
And where my boys have gone
|
Is known to God and four strong winds
|
And I'm here all alone
|
|
Now ten long years have somehow passed
|
Since I've seen my hometown
|
And times I've spent upon those streets
|
And faint familiar sounds
|
Still whisper gently in my ear
|
And play upon my eyes
|
And I'll hold on to my memories
|
Till one by one they die
|
|
I can hear your passing trains
|
And I wonder what they see
|
And somewhere's out my window
|
Are the places I might be
|
|
Now I'm chasing down those pretty little boys
|
They wander through my mind
|
Maybe they'll remember me
|
When I work off my time
|
|
But I still belong to everyone
|
And if my sleep allows
|
Well then all those boys
|
Will dance tonight
|
With me and my old pals
|
|
But I'm running every single night
|
And every single days
|
Lord I've tried everything I know
|
To somehow find my way
|
Back to that one place in time
|
That fond memory endows
|
Me and my old pals
|
|
-----------------
|
My Old Pals
|
Kim Carnes |