| D | Em | A | D | |
| I was twenty-one | years when | I wrote this | song. |
| C | D | |
| Im twenty-two now but I | wont be for | long |
| G | A | |
| Time h | urries on. |
| D | C | G | A | D | |
| And the | leaves | that are | gre | en turn to | brown, |
| Bm | |
| And they | wither with the wind, |
| A | |
| And they | crumble in your hand. |
| and so on... |