As our time dwindles down
We learn how to wait
Our patience grows long
When the hour is late
Time, time is a stalker
the stealer of sighs
Oh isn't it strange
the target's in range
the madrigals change
isn't it strange
The fugitive cargo
of trust we misplaced
losing the tongue
while acquiring the taste
Oh isn't it strange
the target's in range
the music will change
isn't it strange
Nobody knows
she comes and she goes
what next? I suppose
A murder of crows
No, Isn't it sad?
There's nothing to add
Oh Isn't it mad?
Grace has gone bad
Night comes calling
Snow comes falling
Night comes calling
Snow comes falling down
copyright 2018 Ben New
(BMI)
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