Ticking away the moments
that make up a dull day;
You fritter and waste the hours
in an off hand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground
in your home town;
Waiting for someone or something
to show you the way.
Tired of lying in the sunshine,
staying home to watch the rain;
You are young and life is long,
and there is time to kill today.
And then the one day you find
ten years have got behind you;
No one told you when to run,
you missed the starting gun.
And you run and you run
to catch up with the sun,
but it's sinking;
And racing around
to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in the relative way,
but you're older;
And shorter of breath,
and one day closer to death.
Every year is getting shorter,
never seem to find the time;
Plans that either come to naught
or half a page of scribbled lines.
Hanging on in quiet desparation
in the English way..
The time is gone the song is over,
thought I'd something more to say...
Home, home again;
I like to be there when I can...
When I come in cold and tired,
It's good to warm my bones beside the fire.
Far away across the field,
The tolling of the iron bell,
Calls the faithful to their knees,
To hear the softly spoken magic spells...
