Lead me straight to those I knew
Each Thursday night we'd stand
Outside the old Frontier

And bring me where the tall tales grew
Each Sunday by the Strand
We'd laugh ourselves to tears
Oh yeah, along the old Frontier

Time on my hands
My hands are tied to the past
And its demands
But even bright days weren't meant to last
And our old hand prints are fading fast

Down on Kenyon Avenue
We'd lie out on the lawn
And dream about the stars

And playing in a basement room
We'd stay up past the dawn
And cradle our guitars
Our hearts were lost out in the stars

Time on my hands
My hands are tied to the past
And its demands
But even bright days weren't meant to last
And our old hand prints are fading fast