You'll always hear me say "Hello, Ma'am"
"Thank you"
"Good morning"
"Looking fine"
It's all those old folks left here waiting
That left my heart into my mind
It's a sad, sad feelin'
To still be around
On every sunny Sunday morning
All golden-aged and sittin' in
Comes out to putter in the sunshine
And shuffle through his deck of bein'
It's a sad, sad feelin'
To still be around
And it's the same old tired park bench
Nobody's found
Soft wrinkled stories if you listen
About the lazy days back when
Your mom and dad were little babies
And he had friends still livin' then
It's a sad, sad feelin'
To still be around
And it's the same old tired park bench
Nobody's found
There was a tree put there for shadin'
That they cut down
The fields he loved got turned to highways
From horse to car to plane to moon
Stayed home well meant but he feels older
Yet none of his kids have the room
It's a sad, sad feelin'
To still be around
And it's the same old tired park bench
Nobody's found
There was a tree put there for shadin'
That they cut down
And his old shoes had worn a spot there
From grass to ground
