The dying embers of a setting sun
Takes its place,
The disappearing voice
Of bairns ending fun
Stored until another day
When the rising orb declares the time,
Is yours, and maybe even mine,
If I’ve got my timing right
When day cometh out of night.
The Journey Begins
The dying embers of a setting sun
Takes its place,
The disappearing voice
Of bairns ending fun
Stored until another day
When the rising orb declares the time,
Is yours, and maybe even mine,
If I’ve got my timing right
When day cometh out of night.