Free Four lyrics

One two three four!

The memories of a man in his old age

Are the deeds of a man in his prime.

You shuffle in the gloom of the sickroom

And talk to yourself as you die.

Life is a short warm moment

And death is a long cold rest.

You get your chance to try

In the twinkling of an eye:

Eighty years, with luck, or even less.

So all aboard for the American tour,

And maybe you'll make it to the top.

But mind how you go.

I can tell you, 'cause I know.

You may find it hard to get off.

You are the angel of death

And I am the dead man's son.

He was buried like a mole in a fox hole.

And everyone is still on the run.

And who is the master of fox hounds?

And who says the hunt has begun?

And who calls the tune in the courtroom?

And who beats the funeral drum?

The memories of a man in his old age

Are the deeds of a man in his prime.

You shuffle in the gloom of the sickroom

And talk to yourself as you die.