Hearing the sounds, feeling the mood
Making the old associations
People I’ve known, places I’ve stayed
Is it a kind of consolation?
 Chorus
I don’t want to go back to the Good Old Days
Everything that mattered then, I’ve brought it all the way
There’s nothing left in an empty house, and everybody’s gone
Don’t look behind you; let it carry you on
Friends that I had years ago
Those that were real still surround me
Others I know are different now
Trying to find them just confounds me
Thinking of you, seeing you again
Bringing me pain and complication
The lovers I knew; it isn’t the same
Only a sense of isolation
Familiar town, familiar street
Different parties, different faces
Nobody there knows who you are
Nothing but rows of empty spaces
Looking ahead, living today
This is the time of my survival
And I’m not about to throw it away
For some twentieth century revival |
