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Pink FloydTime

Ticking away the moments that
make up a dull day
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 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
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
desperation is the English way
The time is gone
the song is over
thought I'd something
more to say

home hone again
I like to be here when I can
And when I come home
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 the softly
spoken magic spells

Ticking away the moments that
make up a dull day
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 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
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
desperation is the English way
The time is gone
the song is over
thought I'd something
more to say

home hone again
I like to be here when I can
And when I come home
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 the softly
spoken magic spells

Pink Floyd Pencarian: Pink Floyd