Early in the year
But closing out the day
You arrived on the wind
That swept the swirling sand away
Six and thirty Thursdays
Counted off the time
The ticking of the tempo
Reaching for a love sublime
Now the weary world winds down
The sun sheds one last beam
Turn your face toward the stars
And with the angels, dream
Rubber to the road
Headlong into a wait
Genetic disposition
Suggested you might be late
Six and thirty Thursdays
Crashing with the tide
A lunar pull to see all of this
From another side
Evening shadows swell the banks
To float the light downstream
Turn your face toward the stars
And with the angels, dream
Slow dissolve to nocturne blue
While silence sets the theme
Turn your face toward the stars
And with the angels, dream
