verse 1

Time holds us in its grip
with steely fingers that never slip.
It holds on right until the end.
Sometimes an enemy, sometimes a friend.

chorus

Fly time fly.
Fly time fly.
On the wings of the sun through the sky.

verse 2

Time leaves its marks on you.
The signs of life you’ve been through.
Each one feels like the first.
Sometimes a blessing, sometimes a curse.

chorus

Fly time fly.
Fly time fly.
On the wings of the sun through the sky.
Fly time fly.

Clifford S. Knizley
February 6, 2002

Copyright, Clifford Scott Knizley, 2002