A distant night bird mocks the sun.

I wake as I have always done,

To freshly scented sycamore

And cold bare feet on hardwood floor.



My steaming coffee warms ny face

I'm diappointed in the taste.

But there's a peace the early brings

The morning world of growing things.



[Instrumental]



I feel the moments hurry on

It was today, it's died away,

And now it is forever gone.



And I will drink my coffee slow

And I will watch my shadow grow

And disappear in firelight

And sleep alone again tonight.