Jack Bruce Timeslip
Leaves falling
Face down on the ground
Lie in the rusty crowd
That waits in the pouring rain
By the pavements of grey
In autumn days
Days spending tie
Outside the place of laughter
Brave weddings
On summer mornings
Gardens of proud husbands
That wait in the silver sun
As the fields come awake
Lost summer days
Days spending time
Making the songs of laughter
Time slipping, time slipping
