| Time, time, time,
|
| See what’s become of me,
|
| While I looked around,
|
| For my possibilities,
|
| I was so hard to please.
|
| I look around,
|
| Leaves are brown,
|
| And the sky,
|
| Is a hazy shade of winter.
|
| Hear the Salvation Army band,
|
| Down by the river,
|
| It’s bound to be a better ride,
|
| Than what you’ve got planned,
|
| Carry your cup in your hand.
|
| And look around.
|
| Leaves are brown
|
| And the sky
|
| Is a hazy shade of winter.
|
| Hang on to your hopes, my friend,
|
| That’s an easy thing to say,
|
| But if your hopes should pass away,
|
| Simply pretend,
|
| That you can build them again.
|
| Look around,
|
| Grass is high,
|
| The fields are ripe,
|
| It’s the springtime of my life.
|
| Ah, seasons change with the scenery,
|
| Weaving time in a tapestry,
|
| Won’t you stop and remember me,
|
| At any convenient time,
|
| Funny how my memory skips,
|
| While looking over manuscripts,
|
| Of unpublished rhyme,
|
| Drinking my vodka and lime.
|
| I look around,
|
| Leaves are brown,
|
| And the sky,
|
| Is a hazy shade of winter.
|
| Look around,
|
| Leaves are brown,
|
| There’s a patch of snow on the ground,
|
| Look around,
|
| Leaves are brown,
|
| There’s a patch of snow on the ground.
|
| Look around,
|
| Look around.
|
| Leaves are brown,
|
| And the sky,
|
| Is a hazy shade of winter,
|
| Look around,
|
| Leaves are brown,
|
| There’s a patch of snow on the ground,
|
| Look around,
|
| Leaves are brown,
|
| There’s a patch of snow on the ground.
|
| Do. |