An old man is lying,
He is dying in a bed of despair.
To all it is obvious his heart is crying.
No flash of glory,
His life ends without flair.
Those who stood by now cry for him.
Those who didn't now cry for themselves.
For now all they have is the pictures on the shelves.
And the memories of the times long since past.
Their absence when the skies were blue,
Took its toll when the skies were grey.
When their love was true,
It's light was smothered throughout the day.
As time held its grip fast.
However, their love,
Which they thought distant to him,
Remains in his heart,
Forever carried within.