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The Hours
Give me back the hours,
They're mine to waste,
The city and it's sorrows holds my gaze,
Crimsoned are the hours,
Bled to death by idle hands of time.
Look up the sky's awake, the sun is shining,
The gloom and the haze have both burned away by morning, Oh, L.A.
What's written in sand, your cities and plans,
The ocean will erase.
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Images from silence slow to wake,
Prepare yourself to leave this soft, soft state,
It's a chase of lightning,
Brightened skyline, endless days I've longed: Home. Home. Home.
Look up the sky's awake, the sun is shining,
The gloom and the haze have both burned away by morning, Oh, L.A.
What's written in sand,
Your cities and plans, the ocean will erase.
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