Across the evening sky, all the birds are leaving.But how can they know it's time for them to go?
Before the winter fire, I will still be dreaming;
I have no thought of time,
For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?
Sad, deserted shore--your fickle friends are leaving.
Ah, but then you know it's time for them to go.
But I will still be here, I have no thought of leaving.
I do not count the time.
For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?
~Sandy Denny
