Don Dixon 25,000 Days
Ticking like a bomb, the clock of ages
I’ve read the book of love and I, look, I’ve held the pages
Choking back the fear of ever after
To know the taste of time gone to waste, without the laughter
Wound up like a spring, forged from eternity
Live rolling endlessly, I can’t pull the hours of dreams
Somehow I have thought that I would have time to change
25,000 days isn’t nearly as long as it seems
Every day I wake up to the pressure
I feel the blush of every day rust, too small to measure
Giving up the hour for the minute
I trade the days in my shallow grave for time to spend here
Wound up like a spring, forged from eternity
Live rolling endlessly, I can’t pull the hours of dreams
Somehow I have thought that I would have time to change
25,000 days isn’t nearly as long as it seems
As long as it seems
As long as it seems
As long as it seems
As long as it seems
As long as it seems
As long as it seems
