My window is a time machine
As different seasons move by
I see the past as it was then
I watch the past again and again.

I see

A star upon the rolling waves
Too dim of late to hold its place
Devoid of laughter, light and grace
The world is now a field

From out of the darkness I climb.

As I dance in this light to a song called time.

I spin round and round and leap high and

Time; Oh how he chases me,
Wants me to live more rapidly,
Wallow in his misery.
Trying to make me history.

He chases me down

We have so little,
Yet waste so much,
We lean on time,
It is our crutch.

Shadow of a sundial,
An hour-glass turned,
The life of