I hung out with the old folks
|
In the hope that I'd get wise
|
I was trying to bridge the gap
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Between the great divide
|
|
Hung on every recollection
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In the theater of their eyes
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Picking up on this and that
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In the few that still survived
|
|
Call 'em up, n' dust 'em off, let 'em shine
|
The ones who hold onto the the ones
|
They had to leave behind
|
Those that flew and those that fell
|
The ones that had to stay
|
Beneath a little wooden cross oceans away
|
|
They bend like trees in winter
|
These shuffling old grey lions
|
Those snow-white stars still gather
|
Like the belt around Orion
|
|
Just to touch the faded lightning
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Of their powerful design
|
Of a generation gathering
|
For maybe the last time
|
|
Call 'em up, n' dust 'em off, let 'em shine
|
The ones who hold onto the the ones
|
They had to leave behind
|
Those that flew and those that fell
|
The ones that had to stay
|
Beneath a little wooden cross oceans away
|
|
Oceans away
|
Where the green grass sways
|
And the cool wind blows
|
Across the shadow of their graves.
|
Shoulder to shoulder back in the day
|
Sleeping bones to rest in earth, oceans away
|
|
Call 'em up, n' dust 'em off, let 'em shine
|
The ones who hold onto the the ones
|
They had to leave behind
|
Those that flew and those that fell
|
The ones that had to stay
|
Beneath a little wooden cross oceans away
|
|
-----------------
|
Oceans Away
|
| Elton John |
