No Sound


See the smoke against the sky,
A shadow on the burning sun,
A fleeing moment on the run.
When the tears burn in your eyes,
You know theyâre from another day
That always made you feel this way.
And I remember all the things you said,
Chilled and tired, we were nearly halfway dead and done.
Sorrow in the afternoon,
Repentance is the martyrâs game,
You feel remorse, I feel the same.
Precious moments end too soon,
You never want to see them die,
You canât control it but you try.
And I remember all the things you said,
Chilled and tired, we were nearly halfway dead
And done with all the fires weâd started,
Smoked out, suddenly the trees had parted;
Clear fields stretched beneath the waning moon,
We stood there in a waking swoon,
Couldnât make a sound, no sound.
Smokey mist before my eyes,
Nobody ever plans for this --
You cannot see what you have missed.
Whoâs the fool and who is wise ?
Here âs something I once heard before:
Donât spoil what was by wanting more.
And I remember all the things you said,
Chilled and tired, we were nearly halfway dead
And done with all the fires weâd started,
Smoked out, suddenly the trees had parted;
Clear fields stretched beneath the waning moon,
We stood there in a waking swoon,
Couldnât make a sound, no sound.


Rob Glaser

back