The bad old days they came and went
Whenever I get to feel this way
Slowly upstairs, faster down
But for your own sake remember times
I think about the bad old days
Could be soon we’ll cease to sound
Says it’s time to go
Try to find new words to say
Nights of winter turn me cold
Then to revisit stony grounds
We used to know
While in the bush the others land
By running slowly
Remembering mornings, shillings spent
Made no sense to leave the bed
Giving way to fruitful years
Fears of dying, getting old
We ran the race, the race was won
Saving up the birds in hand
Best of luck with what you find
Take what we can before the man
We used to know
We used to know
Each to his own way I’ll go mine