(Tipton) The old man's sitting there, his head bowed down Every now and then he'll take a look around And his eyes reflect the memory-pain of years gone by He can't regain nostalgic dreams he'll never see again With trembling hands, he wipes a tear Many fall like rain, there's one for every year And his life laid out so clearly now, life that's brought death So nearly now life once he clung to dearly lets go But spare a thought as you pass him by Take a closer look and you'll say He's our tomorrow, just as much as we are his yesterday A lonely grave, and soon forgot Only wind and leaves lament his mournful song Yet they shout his epitaph out clear For anyone who's passing near It names the person lying here as you And you...and you...and you...
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