Whenever I get to feel this way Try to find new words to say I think about the bad old days     We used to know. Nights of winter turn me cold Fears of dying getting old. We ran the race and the race was won     By running slowly. Could be soon well cease to sound Slowly upstairs faster down. Then to revisit stony grounds    We used to know. Remembering mornings shillings spent Made no sense to leave the bed. The bad old days they came and went     Giving way to fruitful years. SOLO DE FLAUTA 3 ESTROFAS ACORDES CONTINÚAN IGUALES Saving up the birds in hand While in the bush the others land. Take what we can before the man    Says its time to go. Each to his own way Ill go mine. Best of luck in what you find. But for your own sake remember times     We used to know. SOLO DE GUITARRA 3 ESTROFAS ACORDES CONTINUAN IGUALES