Old Folks (Les vieux)

The old folks don't talk much
 And they talk so slowly when they do
 They are rich, they are poor
 Their illusions are gone
 They share one heart for two
 Their homes all smell of time
 Of old photographs, and an old-fashioned song
 Though you may live in town
 You live so far away
 When you've lived too long
 And have they laughed too much?
 Do their dry voices crack talking of times gone by?
 And have they cried too much?
 A tear or two still always seems to cloud the eye
 They tremble as they watch the old silver clock
 When day is through
 It tick-tocks, oh, so slow
 It says, "Yes"
 It says, "No"
 It says, "I'll wait for you"
 The old folks dream no more
 The books have gone to sleep
 The piano's out of tune
 The little cat is dead
 And no more do they sing on a Sunday afternoon
 The old folks move no more
 Their world's become too small
 Their bodies feel like lead
 They might look out the window, or else sit in a chair
 Or else, they stay in bed
 And if they still go out, arm in arm, arm in arm
 In the morning's chill
 It's to have a good cry
 To say their last good-bye
 To one who's older still
 And then they go home to the old silver clock
 When day is through
 It tick-tocks, oh, so slow
 It says, "Yes"
 It says, "No"
 It says, "I'll wait for you"
 The old folks never die
 They just put down their heads and go to sleep one day
 They hold each other's hand like children in the dark
 But one will get lost anyway
 And the other will remain just sitting in that room
 Which makes no sound
 It doesn't matter now
 The song has died away
 And echoes all around
 You'll see them when they walk through the sun-filled park
 Where children run and play
 It hurts too much to smile
 It hurts too much, but life goes on
 For still another day
 As they try to escape the old silver clock
 When day is through
 It tick-tocks, oh, so slow
 It says, "Yes"
 It says, "No"
 It says, "I'll wait for you"
 
 The old, old silver clock
 That's hanging on the wall
 That waits for us
 All