Seil Chat

Three Minutes at a Time.

Saturday night, and in a thousand places
Pubs fill for Karaoke.
Old men dress up to the nines
To sing Sinatra and Dino,
To relive their young dreams,
Three minutes at a time.

They saunter happily,
Maybe a little sadly, home
After the doors are closed,
And move thoughtfully through
The half-deserted streets,
The stars eclipsed for now,
Just now,
By banal cityglow.

But next week they’ll return, though,
To sing again Sinatra and Dino,
To relive their young dreams-O,
Three minutes at a time.

superb peter

teddy

Wonderful Peter, love it. Many times I have experienced the old timers belting out the swing numbers (and often), I have wondered what else they do... are they alone? are they sad the rest of the time, are they lonely. Is this the last thing, that brings them some joy and nostalgia.... Very well thought of