You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way

Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town

Waiting for someone or something to show you the way

Tired of lying in the sunshine Staying home to watch the rain

You are young, and life is long And there is time to kill today

And then one day, you find Ten years have got behind you

No one told you when to run You missed the starting gun

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun

But it's sinking And racing around to come up behind you again

The sun is the same in a relative way But you're older

Shorter of breath and one day closer to death

Every year is getting shorter Never seem to find the time

Plans that either come to naught Or half a page of scribbled lines

Hanging on in quiet desperation is the english way

The time has gone, the song is over Thought I'd something more to say

Home, home again I like to be here when I can

When I come home cold and tired It's good to warm my bones beside the fire

Far away, across the field The tolling of the iron bell

Calls the faithful to their knees To hear the softly spoken magic spells