As the morning spreads the light another feeling shed’s its skin.
As the day is worn the right way round it’s twisted from within.
It seems like time is chewing, gnawing bones despite the sin.
And only washed out empty streets exactly know just where you’ve been.


Now the sun it roams the road inventing twenty shades of green. _ And it paints the walls and fountains and it trembles like a dream.
It seems like time it drains your heart as thirsty as a stream.
And only restless silent thoughts exactly know just what you mean.


Yes and I, I am taken by the ghostly fog that spills from your eyes, Yes and I, I can’t conquer all the crooked land that fills up your mind.
Yes and you, you can pay me off and send me on my way, on my way.
But you, you can tape these prison walls as I fall asleep, But I belong here, I belong here.


Noisy dust has gathered in the corner of the room.
Muffled sound is scattered in the street that’s lit by moon.
I can’t trace your footprints all the waves have washed the sand. _ I’m lost along the crooked lines you crumple in your hand.


There are twenty thousand cards upon your table, which I’ve played.
Still I cannot find the volumes you have hidden in the shade.
It seems like time’s a spotlight that is slowly on the fade.
Leaving strangers left to question all the things that you have made.