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