Weeds are growing in beds by the water
Someone is swimming out in the harbor
A twinkling lighthouse is guiding a ship off to sea

Retired, retired, retired

The moon is glowing behind a red rock
Your camera takes another long shot
You find you're alone but you don't really feel like you are

The drives may be long but your radio works
Your back seat is filled up with all of your books
You brought your keyboard in case you write a song

Retired, retired, retired

Sitting up late with my lady and dog
Wondering when the baby will talk
We see her enough so she probably remembers your name

The smells of dinner and paint in the air
At four in the morning you're still laying there
Asleep on the couch, you wake up to rub your eyes

Time to retire, retire, retire

Copyright: BMG Rights Management
Writer(s): CARL WILLARD BROEMEL