Text: Watchtower. Life Cycles.
:
One moment's pause
One moments retreat
Away from the heat...
The silent surroundings
The black of the predawn sky
The chilled air of night
All give meaning to the sunrise
Without darkness
What would we know of light?
Day turns to night turns to day
A cycle that rules our lives
The darkness of night seems distant
When the daylight arrives
Two steps forward, one step back
It's an unbeaten path we tread
Sometimes we get blown off track
Sometimes we get blown ahead
Life's declines precede life's highs
Like the lines on a biorhythmic chart
Between the lows the beauty lies
Don't take your failure to heart
We may be dealt some cruel blows
By fate's implacable hands
Changing the future - changing our goals
Laying waste to all of our plans
No promises, no guarantees
Of a rose-colored existence
Progress comes slowly - always met with
A measure of ruthless Resistance
Whether it's the pleasure of success
Or the pain of rejection
Life doesn't travel just one way
In either direction
Bitter cold December
Spirits - and time - seem as frozen
As the icy ground
But time will soon fall
And march inevitably ahead
The world keeps spinning...
Season come, seasons go
As we helplessly watch them fly by
But life has cycles we can Control
In our own hands our destinies lie
One moment's pause
One moments retreat
Away from the heat...
The silent surroundings
The black of the predawn sky
The chilled air of night
All give meaning to the sunrise
Without darkness
What would we know of light?
Day turns to night turns to day
A cycle that rules our lives
The darkness of night seems distant
When the daylight arrives
Two steps forward, one step back
It's an unbeaten path we tread
Sometimes we get blown off track
Sometimes we get blown ahead
Life's declines precede life's highs
Like the lines on a biorhythmic chart
Between the lows the beauty lies
Don't take your failure to heart
We may be dealt some cruel blows
By fate's implacable hands
Changing the future - changing our goals
Laying waste to all of our plans
No promises, no guarantees
Of a rose-colored existence
Progress comes slowly - always met with
A measure of ruthless Resistance
Whether it's the pleasure of success
Or the pain of rejection
Life doesn't travel just one way
In either direction
Bitter cold December
Spirits - and time - seem as frozen
As the icy ground
But time will soon fall
And march inevitably ahead
The world keeps spinning...
Season come, seasons go
As we helplessly watch them fly by
But life has cycles we can Control
In our own hands our destinies lie
Watchtower