| The old gate is rusting in the rain. |
| Children, comin' home from school,
|
| no longer skim their pebbles on the old town creek
|
| That just around the bend becomes a pool
|
| And we’ve all grown older. |
| Come see where we have been out here rusting in the
|
| rain
|
| The old house is creaking in the rain. |
| Lovers, comin' down the hill,
|
| no longer stop to linger by the old dead tree
|
| They took away for lumber to the mill
|
| And we’ve all grown older. |
| Come see where we have been out here rusting in the
|
| rain
|
| And we’ve all grown older. |
| Come see where we have been out here rusting in the
|
| rain
|
| The old world is dying in the rain. |
| The summer coming, every year,
|
| no longer stops to wonder as it goes along its way
|
| Did anybody ever leave here?
|
| And we’ve all grown older. |
| Come see where we have been out here rusting in the
|
| rain
|
| And we’ve all grown older. |
| Come see where we have been out here rusting in the
|
| rain |