DOES TIME TELL US

Saturday night sunset, the moon comes up - big, orange and bright.
Too late for being on time, too early for saying goodnight.
You sit undisturbed, absorbed in the concentration of being three.
Your bedtime came and went, now what has become of me?

What do we know, what is the fuss?
Do we tell time or does time tell us?
What do we know, what is the fuss?
Do we tell time or does time tell us?

I buried a wish and a nickel in the sandbox when I was eight.
But I lost more than their interest when my friends could not relate.
Now I hold your tiny hand in mine and I'm back in the right place,
I thank the sundial each and every time I see your face.

What do we know, what is the fuss?
Do we tell time or does time tell us?
What do we know, what is the fuss?
Do we tell time or does time tell us?

They mismanage the time they save for themselves,
While little kids listen for fire trucks, fairies, and elves.
You and me, we are the secret no one understands,
Markers, crayons and chalk, colored paper meeting scissors, manipulated by tiny hands.

Hour glasses to measure time, alarm clocks to wake us up.
Too much sand is passing through while morning is too abrupt.
Saturday night sunset, the moon comes up - big, orange and bright.
Too late for being on time, too early for saying goodnight.

What do we know, what is the fuss?
Do we tell time or does time tell us?
What do we know, what is the fuss?
Do we tell time or does time tell us?