Simon & Garfunkel - Bookends (1968) by Simon & Garfunkel (보컬) on maniadb.com

Time it was and what a time it was.
It was a time of innocence.
A time of confidences.
Long ago it must be,
I have a photograph,
Preserve your memories,
They're all that's left you

Good God! Don't jump!
A boy sat on the ledge
An old man who had fainted was revived
And everyone agreed 'twould be a miracle indeed
If the boy survived

"Save the life of my child!"
Cried the desperate mother

The woman from the supermarket
Ran to call the cops
"He must be high on something" someone said
Though it never made The New York Times
In The Daily News, the caption read

"Save the life of my child!"
Cried the desperate mother

(Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again)

A patrol car passing by
Halted to a stop
Said officer MacDougal in dismay:
"The force can't do a decent job
'Cause the kids got no respect
For the law today (and blah blah blah)"

"Save the life of my child!"
Cried the desperate mother

"Oh what's becoming of the children?"
People asking each other

When darkness fell, excitement kissed the crowd
And it made them wild
In an atmosphere of freaky holiday
When the spotlight hit the boy
And the crowd began to cheer
He flew away

Let us be lovers we'll marry our fortunes together
"I've got some real estate here in my bag"
So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs. Wagner pies
And we walked off to look for America
"우리 연인이 되어서 우리의 재산을 합치는 게 어떨까?"
"난 가방 안에 돈을 좀 가져왔어."
그래서 우리는 담배 한 보루와 와그너여사 파이를 샀다.
그리고 우리는 미국을 찾아 걸어서 떠났다.

"Kathy," I said as we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburgh
"Michigan seems like a dream to me now"
It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw
I've gone to look for America

Why don't we stop fooling ourselves?
The game is over, over, over

No good times, no bad times
There's no times at all
Just The New York Times
Sitting on the windowsill
Near the flowers

We might as well be apart
It hardly matters
We sleep separately
And drop a smile passing in the hall
But there's no laughs left
'Cause we laughed them all
And we laughed them all
In a very short time

Time
Is tapping on my forehead
Hanging from my mirror
Rattling the teacups
And I wonder
How long can I delay?
We're just a habit
Like Saccharin

And I'm habitually feelin' kinda blue

But each time I try on
The thought of leaving you
I stop
I stop and think it over

Man 1: I got little in this world. I give honesty without regret. One hundred dollars for that picture. I remember taking a picture with...

Woman 1: Ooh! Let me show you. Let me show you our picture. This was me and my husband when we were first married.

Woman 2: I always slept on one side, left room for my husband.

Woman 1: And that's me when we were sixteen.

Woman 2: But this, this, this, this is not the case. I still do it. I still lay on the half of the bed. (pause) We used to sneak in...

Man 2: Still haven't seen the doctor I was seein'; there's been blood for the last, eh, forty-eight hours, and I can't get up the mucus for the last, eh, two, three months... oh yes, and I maintain, I maintain strongly, to this minute, I don't think it's an ordinary cold.

Woman 3: God forgive me, but an old person without money is pathetic.

Woman 4: Children, and mothers, that's the way we have it. A mother-- they are [mumbling I can't make out].

Woman 5: 'Cause mothers do too much.

Woman 4: That is mother's life, to live for your child. (pause) Yes, my dear.

Man 3: I couldn't get younger. I have to be an old man. That's all. Well...

Woman 6: Are you happy here, honey? Are you happy living with us?

Man 3: So anytime I walk with Lou and... that's all.

Woman 6: Mr. Singer? Are you happy living with us here?

Woman 7: But we don't do that, dear.

Woman 6: But are you happy?

Woman 7: If you mean, if, if you could say, yes, and I thought, and I was so happy, and everybody, "What is this? What is it?"

Woman 8: It just is, beautiful. Like, just a room. Your own room, in your own home.

Old friends, old friends sat on their parkbench like bookends
A newspaper blowin´ through the grass
Falls on the round toes of the high shoes of the old friends

Old friends, winter companions, the old men
Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sun
The sounds of the city sifting through trees
Settles like dust on the shoulders of the old friends

Can you imagine us years from today, sharing a parkbench quietly
How terribly strange to be seventy

Old friends, memory brushes the same years, silently sharing the same fears

Time it was and what a time it was.
It was a time of innocence.
A time of confidences.
Long ago it must be,
I have a photograph,
Preserve your memories,
They're all that's left you

When she goes, she's gone.
If she stays, she stays here.
The girl does what she wants to do.
She knows what she wants to do.
And I know I'm fakin' it,
I'm not really makin' it.

I'm such a dubious soul,
And a walk in the garden
Wears me down.
Tangled in the fallen vines,
Pickin' up the punch lines,
I've just been fakin' it,
Not really makin' it.

Is there any danger?
No, no, not really.
Just lean on me.
Takin' time to treat
Your friendly neighbors honestly.
I've just been fakin' it,
I'm not really makin' it.
This feeling of fakin' it-
I still haven't shaken it.

Prior to this lifetime
I surely was a tailor.
("Good morning, Mr. Leitch.
Have you had a busy day?")
I own the tailor's face and hands
I am the tailor's face and hands and
I know I'm fakin' it,
I'm not really makin' it.
This feeling of fakin' it-
I still haven't shaken it.

Wish I was a Kellogg's Cornflake
Floatin' in my bowl takin' movies
Relaxin' a while, livin' in style
Talkin' to a raisin who 'casionally plays L.A.
Casually glancing at his toupee

Wish I was an English muffin
'Bout to make the most out of a toaster
I'd ease myself down
Comin' up brown
I prefer boysenberry
More than any ordinary jam
I'm a "Citizens for Boysenberry Jam" fan

Ah, South California

If I become a first lieutenant
Would you put my photo on your piano?
"To Maryjane-
Best wishes, Martin"
(Old Roger draft-dodger
Leavin' by the basement door)
Everybody knows what he's
Tippy-toeing down there for

And here's to you
Mrs Robinson
Jesus loves you more than
you will know
Wo wo wo
God bless you please
Mrs Robinson
Heaven holds a place for
those who pray
Hey hey hey hey hey hey
We'd like to know a little bit
about you for our files
We'd like to help you
learn to help yourself
Look around you
all you see are sympathetic eyes
Stroll around the grounds
until you feel at home
And here's to you
Mrs Robinson
Jesus loves you more than
you will know
Wo wo wo
God bless you please
Mrs Robinson
Heaven holds a place for
those who pray
Hey hey hey hey hey hey
Hide it in a hiding place
where no one ever goes
Put it in your pantry
with your cupcakes
It's a little secret
just the Robinsons' affair
Most of all
you've got to hide it
from the kids
Coo coo ca choo
Mrs Robinson
Jesus loves you more than
you will know
Wo wo wo
God bless you please
Mrs Robinson
Heaven holds a place for
those who pray
Hey hey hey hey hey hey
Sitting on a sofa
on a Sunday afternoon
Going to the candidates debate
Laugh about it
shout about it
When you've got to choose
Every way you look at it you lose
Where have you gone
Joe DiMaggio A nation turns
its lonely eyes to you
Woo woo woo
What's that you say
Mrs Robinson
Joltin' Joe has left and gone away
Hey hey hey hey hey hey

Time,
Time, see what's become of me
While I looked around for my possibilities.

I was so hard to please.
Look around,
Leaves are brown,
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.

Hear the Salvation Army band.
Down by the riverside's
Bound to be a better ride
Than what you've got planned.

Carry your cup in your hand.
And look around.
Leaves are brown.
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.

Hang on to your hopes, my friend.
That's an easy thing to say,
But if your hopes should pass away
Simply pretend that you can build them again.
Look around,
The grass is high,
The fields are ripe,
It's the springtime of my life.

Seasons change with the scenery;
Weaving time in a tapestry.
Won't you stop and remember me
At any convenient time?
Funny how my memory skips
Looking over manuscripts
Of unpublished rhyme.

Drinking my vodka and lime,
I look around,
Leaves are brown,
And the sky is a hazy shade of winter.

Someone told me
It's all happening at the zoo
I do believe it
I do believe it's true
Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm
Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm
Oh ho ho ho
Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm

It's a light and tumble journey
From the East Side to the park
Just a fine and fancy ramble
To the zoo

But you can take the crosstown bus
If it's raining or it's cold
And the animals will love it
If you do

If ya do now

Something tells me
It's all happening at the zoo
I do believe it
I do believe it's true
Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm
Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm
Oh ho ho ho
Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm

The monkeys stand for honesty
Giraffes are insincere
And the elephants are kindly but they're dumb
Ourang-outangs are skeptical
Of changes in their cages
And the zookeeper is very fond of rum

Zebras are reactionaries
Antelopes are missionaries
Pigeons plot in secrecy
And hamsters turn on frequently
What a gas
Ya gotta come and see
At the zoo
At the zoo
At the zoo
At the zoo

You don't know that you love me
You don't know but I know that you do
You may think that you're above me, yeah
What you think isn't always true

Don't try to debate me,
You should know that I'm womanly wise
Still you try to manipulate me
You don't know where your interest lies

No, you don't know where your interest lies
You don't begin to comprehend

You're just a game I like to play
You may think that we're friends all right
But I won't let friendship get in my way,
No, I won't let friendship get in my way,

Indications indicate running the same riff will turn you around
Obviously you're going to blow it,
But you don't know it

You don't know that you love me
You don't know but I know that you do
You may think that you're above me, yeah
What you think isn't always true

Don't try to debate me,
You should know that I'm womanly wise
Still you try to manipulate me
You don't know where your interest lies

No, you don't know where your interest

Old friends, old friends sat on their parkbench like bookends
A newspaper blowin´ through the grass
Falls on the round toes of the high shoes of the old friends

Old friends, winter companions, the old men
Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sun
The sounds of the city sifting through trees
Settles like dust on the shoulders of the old friends

Can you imagine us years from today, sharing a parkbench quietly
How terribly strange to be seventy

Old friends, memory brushes the same years, silently sharing the same fears