Here at the gates, on the day you were born,
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spooling is breathened and blossomed in thought.
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Mind in the head of this child of mine,
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now we're up dancing with old father time,
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raising our glasses to old father time.
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Here in the concords, there's fire in the brave.
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They're not (Ain't no) protecting from me my day.
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If I were strong, if the lashes should shape,
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now we're up dancing with old father time, passing the bottle around.
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Out (Pound) in the moder him pour it in lime,
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plant stuck in the ground.
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Now we're up dancing with old father time, old father time.
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Behold the great city that went down the plague (a glint on the plain?).
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Behold the great curtains that murmur in rage.
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Blink your eyes once and it's grace land again.
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Now we're up dancing with old father time, passing the bottle around.
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Out (Pound) in the moder and pour in the lime,
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the plant is stuck in the ground, now we're up dancing with old father time,
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old father time,
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old father time,
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old father time.
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Old Father Time
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David Gray |