Where have all the good times gone where have all the great tunes gone i look back i reflect mostly in the now i turn my head to the old and gone thats why we make art to hold onto a part of the gone and passed a record, a painting, words from the dead and the days we had i turn my head, a little bit sad it seemed so much better longing back with arms of regret call me sentimental call me a fool im not the only one (im sure) Where have all the good times gone where have all the great tunes gone Where have all the good times gone where have all the great tunes gone we live with our heads turned holding on to bridges burned and see the fire as warmth time swallows all the bridges (if you look you will see, time is never free) staying behind to tidy up staying here to make you pop staying up front to build the next write it down in a makeshift text its fast enough for your tardiness then now when Where have all the good times gone where have all the great tunes gone Where have all the good times gone where have all the great tunes gone cant build a home there the soil is burning cant live in despair the heads are turning
