Everything comes too late or too soon,
There’s death in the morning,
Yet life after noon.
The past is a warning whose lessons we spurn,
We live in the dark and yet still we yearn
For the days in the park when we were still one,
For the nights with the moon
And the following sun.
Everything comes too late or too soon.
Love whispers its secrets but we don’t hear,
There’s pain in the sunshine
Late in the year.
I would hold you in time to the core of my heart
And forbid the moment to arrive or depart,
But the hands don’t relent that turn on the dial
And I foresee the fear
That lives in the phial.
Love whispers its secrets but we don’t hear.
But you’re a part of me now, a cell in the blood,
There’s a flower in the desert,
An ark in the flood.
I cling to the present like a limpet to sand,
You smile with your eyes, you hold with your hand,
And I’m the hobo who tries, as the light starts to pale,
To find gold in the mud,
Although he must fail.
But you’re a part of me now, a cell in the blood.
PLEASE VISIT MY WINGS e-PRESS PAGE HERE.