| Time will mold you and craft you
|
| But soon, when you’re looking away
|
| It will slide up and shaft you
|
| Oh, time
|
| Oh, time
|
| No friend of mine
|
| Mama, mama and teddy bear
|
| Were the first full firm spectrum of time
|
| Now my hurling days are done
|
| And there’s no one to tell and there’s nowhere to run
|
| Time, a blossoming clover
|
| But soon it will say, «Okay, come on son, bend over»
|
| Oh, time
|
| Oh, time
|
| No friend of mine
|
| Oh mama, mama and teddy bear
|
| Were the first full firm spectrum of time
|
| But now my hurling days are done
|
| And there’s no one to tell and there’s nowhere to run
|
| Time places no pressure on you
|
| But soon it explains what it means by the Funky Alfonso
|
| Oh, time
|
| Oh, time
|
| No friend of mine
|
| Oh mama, mama and teddy bear
|
| Were the first full firm spectrum of time
|
| But now my hurling days are done
|
| And there is no one to tell and there’s nowhere to run
|
| Time will send you an invoice
|
| And you pay with your strength and your legs and your sight and your voice
|
| Oh mama, mama and teddy bear
|
| Were the first full firm spectrum of time
|
| But now my hurling days are done
|
| And there is no one to tell and there’s nowhere to run |