I wish I had pictures of every old day Cause all these old memories are fading away There used to be pictures, but they faded too, Or got lost in the hubbub, or I'd show them to you: Of all my old lovers, folks I used to know, And those I still care for who died long ago; The glamorous cities... each cute little town... The trees turning purple and yellow and brown If I were an artist, with charcoal and pad I'd make my own pictures of each day I've had If I were a poet, I'd know the right word I'd make it all pretty, and grand, and absurd If I were an actor, with just a wisecrack Or some little gesture, I'd bring it all back But I'm just a singer; it's only a song The things I remember are probably wrong I wish I had pictures of every old day Cause all these old memories are fading away All these old memories are fading away All these old memories are fading away All these old memories are fading away