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 sick room and talk to yourself as you die For 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 and 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's still on the run
Breathe, breathe in the air Don't be afraid to care Leave, but don't leave me Look around and choose your own ground
For long you live and high you fly Smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry And all you touch and all you see Is all your life will ever be
Run, rabbit, run Dig that hole, forget the sun And when at last the work is done Don't sit down, it's time to dig another one
For long you live and high you fly But only if you ride the tide And balanced on the biggest wave You race towards an early grave
Compositores: Nick Mason / Roger Waters, Richard Wright, David Gilmour