Richard Harris In The Final Hours
In the final hours
With all my toy dreams tattered
With all my singing scattered
Out upon the wind
And now the end
Will find me
Not prepared and strong the way I thought I was
But thinking from the start
How very caught I was, as though it mattered now
Now the dying flowers
Sing an old song that haunts me
And now nobody wants me
All alone (all alone)
Lost between the last of summer showers
These are the final hours
(In the final hours)
(In the final hours)