all is still
all is dark
until the birds in the park
kick out the lark
the world still spins
along its dizzy unknown thread
everyone inside sheets of tins
tinker in their little shed
the night is day
but early still
traffic on the road is heard
even through the solid window sill
all words are leaves falling
in drifts of silent snow
till they hear the calling
until they really know
all is dark
until the birds in the park
kick out the lark
the world still spins
along its dizzy unknown thread
everyone inside sheets of tins
tinker in their little shed
the night is day
but early still
traffic on the road is heard
even through the solid window sill
all words are leaves falling
in drifts of silent snow
till they hear the calling
until they really know
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