Simon & Garfunkel “Old Friends”
Old friends, old friends sat on their park bench like bookends
A newspaper blowin’ through the grass / Falls on the round toes of the high shoes of the old friends
Old friends, winter companions, the old men / Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sun
Can you imagine us years from today, sharing a parkbench quietly / How terribly strange to be seventy
Old friends, memory brushes the same years, silently sharing the same fears.
In the photos below, track Simon and Garfunkel’s old friendship.