Em B Whenever I get to feel this way, D A Hard to find new words to say, C G I think about the bad old days F# B We used to know. Em B Nights of winter turn me cold -- D A Fears of dying, getting old. C G We ran the race the race was won F# B By running slowly. Em B Could be soon well cease to sound, D A Slowly upstairs, faster down. C G Then to revisit stony grounds, F# B We used to know. Em B Remembering mornings, shillings spent, D A Made no sense to leave the bed. C G The bad old days they came and went F# B Giving way to fruitful years. (Instrumental solo) Em B Saving up the birds in hand D A While in the bush the others land. C G Take what we can before the man F# B Says its time to go. Em B Each to his own way I'll go mine. D A Best of luck in what you find. C G But for your own sake remember times F# B We used to know. (Instrumental solo)