🍹Early to RISA 🧉@sh.itjust.worksM to Greentext@sh.itjust.works · edit-22 months agoAnon listens to rocksh.itjust.worksimagemessage-square34fedilinkarrow-up1290arrow-down111
arrow-up1279arrow-down1imageAnon listens to rocksh.itjust.works🍹Early to RISA 🧉@sh.itjust.worksM to Greentext@sh.itjust.works · edit-22 months agomessage-square34fedilink
minus-squareshalafi@lemmy.worldlinkfedilinkEnglisharrow-up22·edit-22 months agoPink Floyd did it: Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day You fritter and waste the hours in an off-hand 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 And 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 Racing around to come up behind you again 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 is gone, the song is over, thought I’d something more to say
Pink Floyd did it:
Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an off-hand 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
And 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
Racing around to come up behind you again
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 is gone, the song is over, thought I’d something more to say
My favorite Pink Floyd song.