Weaver At The Loom But You Can Enjoy Life Before And After
Tiny spheres float in fragile fashion on fluid surfaces
like time capsules of all ages and spacious intervals.
All days and months and years, they hold. Days and months
and years, they hold. Days and months and years they hold
on. They are so exposed to surface tension and pressures
of the atmosphere. They're cashing death threats; their
obituaries merely substance of memories. But death can
bring new life, though most things must die. Float on in
fragile fashion. Float on in fragile fashion. Floating
onward, ever waiting for the end to come, that brings all
to closure. Clocks are grinning, bearing witness to the
passing time, that turns all to memory. Floating onward
ever waiting for the end to come...
