Time is what killed the Sanskrit
Time is what makes any moon a crescent
Time is what's making life a line
In a wait for the answers
Time is a bridge with an end at mist
Time's a ventriloquist
Getting us on an upright road
As we fool dare to do its job
You, Cuban bossa nova
Or a singalong
Or a Beltheine night bound heathen law
Or the lord at heaven
In his earthly form
You will take me home
Time is a postman who brings the dues
Time has no time though to teach the stupid
So we painfully love to lose (Time)
Running wild in between abuses
Time's a door we descend into
To get lost with the music...
You, Cuban bossa nova
Or a singalong
Or a Beltheine night bound heathen law
Or the lord at heaven
In his earthly form
You will take me home
