Sing little bird, sing even though it is not yet morning.
Does this late sunset and light fog have you confused? If it weren't for this clock I would think it was the morning too, the way the light is hitting the sky. The sweet wind makes me want to sing along with you in a morning song of joy and new beginnings.
Still, deep down I know it is not morning. The sun will set soon, not to return until the darkness has run its course. The clock endlessly ticks, reminding me of how much time is left.
So sing your song, and I will sing along. For your morning song is my mourning song. I will weep as you rejoice and somehow it will still sound all the same.
Does this late sunset and light fog have you confused? If it weren't for this clock I would think it was the morning too, the way the light is hitting the sky. The sweet wind makes me want to sing along with you in a morning song of joy and new beginnings.
Still, deep down I know it is not morning. The sun will set soon, not to return until the darkness has run its course. The clock endlessly ticks, reminding me of how much time is left.
So sing your song, and I will sing along. For your morning song is my mourning song. I will weep as you rejoice and somehow it will still sound all the same.
