Lyrics

Faded and frail with a coffee stain
secret book of words from a country train
little souvenirs of a rainbow life
treasure trove of all the dark and light
back when it stretched ahead for years and we had all we needed

Time, time, precious time
slipping through these hands of mine
I’ve got less of it to waste, more to find
precious time
precious time

In the house of dreams there’s a broken chair
pretty little rocks in a box somewhere
there’s a face I love in a picture frame
she would not believe how the world has changed
and how the weeks and months go by and whisper now or never

Time, time, precious time
slipping through these hands of mine
I’ve got less of it to waste and more to find
precious time
precious time

Those were the days I said to my old friend
he said, no, these are the days and I don’t want them to end
Why does it take staring death in the face before we really want to live?
I’m not really sure of myself these days but I know that I’ve got more to give

Time, time, precious time
slipping through these hands of mine
I’ve got less of it to waste, more to find
precious time
precious time
these are the days…
© Jennifer Crook