Simon & Garfunkel Album

"Good God! Don't jump!"
A boy sat on the ledge.
An old man who had fainted was revived.
And everyone agreed it would be a miracle indeed
If the boy survived.
"Save the life of my child!"
Cried the desperate mother.

The woman from the supermarket
Ran to call the cops.
"He must be high on something," someone said.
Though it never made The New York Times.
In The Daily News, the caption read,
"Save the life of my child!"
Cried the desperate mother.

A patrol car passing by
Halted to a stop.
Said officer MacDougal in dismay:
"The force can't do a decent job
'Cause the kids got no respect
For the law today (and blah blah blah)."

"Save the life of my child!"
Cried the desperate mother.
"What's becoming of the children?"
People asking each other.

When darkness fell, excitement kissed the crowd
And made them wild
In an atmosphere of freaky holiday.
When the spotlight hit the boy,
The crowd began to cheer,
He flew away.

"Oh, my Grace, I got no hiding place."

Why don't we stop fooling ourselves?
The game is over,
Over,
Over.
No good times, no bad times,
There's no times at all,
Just The New York Times,
Sitting on the windowsill
Near the flowers.

We might as well be apart.
It hardly matters,
We sleep separately.

And drop a smile passing in the hall
But there's no laughs left
'Cause we laughed them all.
And we laughed them all
In a very short time.

Time
Is tapping on my forehead,
Hanging from my mirror,
Rattling the teacups,
And I wonder,
How long can I delay?
We're just a habit
Like saccharin.

And I'm habitually feelin' kinda blue.

But each time I try on
The thought of leaving you,
I stop...
I stop and think it over.

Fakin' It
When she goes, she's gone.
If she stays, she stays here.
The girl does what she wants to do.
She knows what she wants to do.
And I know I'm fakin' it,
I'm not really makin' it.
I'm such a dubious soul,
And a walk in the garden
Wears me down.
Tangled in the fallen vines,
Pickin' up the punch lines,
I've just been fakin' it,
Not really makin' it.

Is there any danger?
No, no, not really.
Just lean on me.
Takin' time to treat
Your friendly neighbors honestly.
I've just been fakin' it,
I'm not really makin' it.
This feeling of fakin' it--
I still haven't shaken it.

Prior to this lifetime
I surely was a tailor.
("Good morning, Mr. Leitch.
Have you had a busy day?")
I own the tailor's face and hands.
I am the tailor's face and hands and
I know I'm fakin' it,
I'm not really makin' it.
This feeling of fakin' it--
I still haven't shaken it.

Words & music by Paul Simon

When she goes, she's gone.
If she stays, she stays here.
The girl does what she wants to do.
She knows what she wants to do.
And I know I'm fakin' it
I'm not really makin' it.

I'm such a dubious soul,
And a walk in the garden
Wears me down.
Tangled in the fallen vines
Pickin' up the punch lines
I've just been fakin' it
Not really makin' it.

Is there any danger?
No, no, not not really.
Just lean on me.
Takin' time to treat
Your friendly neighbors honestly.
I've just been fakin' it, fakin' it
Not really makin' it.
This feeling of fakin' it
I still haven't shaken it.

Prior to this lifetime
I surely was a tailor
Look at me...

("Good moming, Mr Leitch.
Have you had a busy day?")

I own the tailor's face and hands.
I am the tailor's face and hands
I know I'm fakin' it, fakin' it
I'm not really makin' it.
This feeling of fakin' it
I still haven't shaken it.
I know I'm fakin' it,
I'm not really makin' it.

Wish I was a Kellogg's Cornflake
Floatin' in my bowl takin' movies,
Relaxin' awhile, livin' in style,
Talkin' to a raisin who 'casion'ly plays L.A.,
Casually glancing at his toupee.
Wish I was an English muffin
'Bout to make the most out of a toaster.

I'd ease myself down,
Comin' up brown.

I prefer boysenberry
More than any ordinary jam.
I'm a "Citizens for Boysenberry Jam" fan.

Ah, South California.

If I become a first lieutenant
Would you put my photo on your piano?
To Maryjane--
Best wishes, Martin.
(Old Roger draft-dodger
Leavin' by the basement door),
Everybody knows what he's
Tippy-toeing down there for.