Text supplied in the project files. The original language is preserved.
Sitting in my leather chair, the house feels twice as wide
Since Mary passed last autumn, i've got nothing left to hide
Photo albums spread across this coffee table oak
Every page a different life, every frame a different joke
Wedding day in '65, her dress was powder blue
First apartment, barely room for me and barely room for you
But we made it work somehow, love was all we had
Now these pictures are the only conversation that we've had
Time's a thief that steals so slow
You don't notice till you're old
Dust and photographs, that's all that's left of me
Eighty years compressed into this gallery
Every wrinkle tells a story that i lived
Every scar's a lesson that the years would give
Dust and photographs, scattered on the floor
Proof that i was here, evidence of more
Than just an old man in an empty house
Dust and photographs, that's what life's about
There's Jimmy on his bicycle, training wheels came off
Susan's graduation gown, made her mother cough
From crying tears of happiness, our baby girl grown tall
Now she calls on Sundays, when she remembers to call
Built this house with my own hands, board by stubborn board
Forty years of mortgage payments, every penny toward
This dream we drew on napkins in that diner downtown
Now the bank says i should sell, move to smaller ground
Time's a river flowing fast
Nothing's really built to last
Dust and photographs, that's all that's left of me
Eighty years compressed into this gallery
Every wrinkle tells a story that i lived
Every scar's a lesson that the years would give
Dust and photographs, scattered on the floor
Proof that i was here, evidence of more
Than just an old man in an empty house
Dust and photographs, that's what life's about
I can hear her laughing from the kitchen still
Smell her perfume floating up and down the hall
If i close my eyes real tight and hold real still
I can almost feel like she never left at all