Rubato Industry

Lyrics for Rubato Industry

A lonely page in a music book Is torn and blown across the lake And by the water's edge it stills, As the tide retreats in defense Can these notes awake again? Father time is slowing down The flowing sand inside the hour glass Unlike time, they can be free The path now leads across the bridge Towards the chorus where tritons meet "Gather around, my little ones," they sing, The notes are dancing through the trees Pulling every single string The orchestra will soon begin "Listen!," the brook sings with the green grass That grows under the mill Echoing fields You still hear the music playing This fate in vain, Like the silent sound encloses us And them Now it's merely writings in the sand Each gentle gust Of the wind now fades the written word ...Fades the written word ...Fades the written word [ar: Wobbler] [ti: Rubato Industry] [al: Hinterland] [by: BlackTooth61]