A nice thing with time is that time does not care if it’s night.

But now the day’s advancing self-confident bathing in light.

Indeterminable fright.

I’ve seen the faces of retreat since I let you go,

I’ve confronted, battled, I know the end of this show.

By heart, my bad.

Sometimes the secrets are best wrapped in silence and stories laced with a wink.

The truth can grow old if it’s written in riddles or codes or invisible ink.

Once they have taught you a language you cannot admire its nonsense or sounds.

Suddenly syllables sharper than swords are surrendering secrets out loud.

 

The cuckoo is back and in symphony syncing my mood.

The war is on between brightest and coldest of cruel.

Like a forthcoming fool I shape the soothing and comfortable songs to be sad.

I’m here but further away, I’m stark raving mad.

I’ve learned, my bad.

 

Chorus

 

Come out, feel the spell and the glow.

Secrets trickling out of the snow.

 

Come out, feel the dawn of a day.

Secrets squinting out of the shade.