Dying Embers

The tail end of a winters day
 We chase the dying embers of sunlight,
 To a hill with a view
 Upon a dirty city's dusk
 Cast in gold dust slipping through our hands like time
 This city will never bore,
 But chokes you up and spits you out,
 And leaves you wanting more,
 And the clock is ticking loud
 Time is slipping far too fast,
 But we can cease it.
 And the hours will run away,
 Minutes, seconds, turn to days,
 But we can cease them.
 Oh we can cease them,
 We can cease them.
 To the dead centre of town,
 We'll walk like we have time to.
 To the opening of the green
 That stretches out beyond the mist
 To where the birds might chase you
 And the clock is ticking loud
 Time is slipping far too fast,
 But we can cease it.
 And the hours will run away,
 Minutes, seconds, turn to days,
 But we can cease them.
 Oh we can cease them,
 We can cease them.
 And though we have no time to spend, we will spend it anyway.
 And the year's just slipped away, and dropped us here today
 Through a grubby tunnel deep,
 With iron beasts that screech like only tube trains do
 To where the cars all spit out fumes,
 Paint the walls all black as sirens scream
 And the clock is ticking loud
 Time is slipping far too fast,
 But we can cease it.
 And the hours will run away,
 Minutes, seconds, turn to days,
 But we can cease them.
 Oh we can cease them,
 We can cease them.