Old Folks

Everyone knows him as Old Folks
Like the seasons he'll come and he'll go
Just as free as a bird
And as good as his word
That's why everybody loves him so

Always leaving his spoon in the coffee
Puts his napkin up under his chin
And that yellow cob pipe
It's so mellow it's ripe
But you needn't be ashamed of him

In the evening, after supper
What stories he would tell
How he held the speech at Gettysburg for Lincoln that day
I know that one so well

Don't quite understand about Old Folks
Did he fight for the blue or the grey
For he's so diplomatic
And so dеmocratic
We always let him have his way

Evеry Friday he'll go fishing
Way down on Buzzard's Lake
But he only hooks a perch or two, a whale got away
So then we warmed up the steak

Oh, someday there'll be no more Old Folks
What a lonely old town this will be
Children's voices at play
Will be still for a day
The day that they take Old Folks away