Clock and calendar have their way
You don't want these things to
Yet you're dropping everything
Where the old Victrola stood
Where you think that it still should
You can't hold on the passing time
It was never yours or mine
Though it's causing you [A7dismay
None of this was [Am7]meant to [C7]stay
We are leaves blown by the breeze
Subject to [C7]the smallest sneeze
Where the old Victɾola stood
Where you [A7think that it still should
You can't hold on [C7]the passing time
It was [Am7]never yours or mine