Old Man Time is a rare old man
For a young man he'll ever remain
With his long grey beard and his clothes are plain
Oh Old Man Time is his name
As one flower dies, the old man cries
The young man he plants the seeds again
With a careful hand he tends the sand
Oh, Old Man Time is his name
This old man has an hourgla**
For every soul on the land
Oh, Old Man Time, I have seen mine
It's the one with the fastest sand
No sooner is it turned
Back through the gla** it's churned
I'm wishing I could have each hour again
With a careful hand he tends the sand
Oh, Old Man Time is his name
To me, Old Man, your time is rare
Did God not give you all my sand?
Or maybe mine I had to share
Or is there some left in your hand?
They tell me time is gold, well maybe it's been sold
Or was it simply washed away in rain?
With a careful hand, he tends the sand
Oh, Old Man Time is his name
If I brought him a sack
Do you think he'd put some back?
I know one day across my path he'll come
But as for now, I can't say how
I know the old man's work is far from done
For Old Man Time is just begun