The Morningside - Clocks | Текст песни

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• The Morningside
• Clocks

Faith leads treason
By the hand. They won`t be late.
Days and seasons
Come and go on dial-plate
Patiently the clock keeps count
Of the years we play it safe,
Welcome us and see us out
From the cradle to the grave

Counting out time, turning round,
Knowing no rivals or friends
Quietly you watch our lives passing out
Under your hands

We must dig in
Water wears out a stone
Clocks are ticking,
Stealing minutes one by one,
Pulsing in time to my thoughts
While I ask myself once more:
What for am I held afloat?
Why do I live through it for?

Counting out time, turning round,
Knowing no rivals or friends,
Quietly you watch our lives passing out
Under your hands


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