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 we'll 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      Saving up the birds in hand   While in the bush the others land   Take what we can before the man   Says it's time to go      Each to his own way I'll go mine   Best of luck in what you find   But for your own sake remember times   We used to know