Mostly autumn

Pass the clock (part 1)

Mostly autumn
You pass the clock with golden hands,
The sun bright in your eyes,
The universe breathes out
A little sigh

The yellow flowers wash the age
From your smile
And deep inside a voice
Holds you tight

Stand behind the wind
And reach out your fingertips

You sever the chords that holds the weight
Of your heart
And as it falls the clock slips
From your hand

If all the love in the universe
Could carry you away
Away

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