Up and down our road he goes on his daily walk.
He’d like to stop for a chat and tell stories of the old days, but none of us have time for that.
We have jobs to do, kids to look after.
He hasn’t looked too good recently, his walk now a totter and his smile a little senile.
Yet, when we see him coming we still cross to the other side.
One day soon he’ll pass away, but no one here will care and we’ll go on with our lives as if old Mr Jones had never been there.
He’d like to stop for a chat and tell stories of the old days, but none of us have time for that.
We have jobs to do, kids to look after.
He hasn’t looked too good recently, his walk now a totter and his smile a little senile.
Yet, when we see him coming we still cross to the other side.
One day soon he’ll pass away, but no one here will care and we’ll go on with our lives as if old Mr Jones had never been there.
