Оригинален текст
As the sun comes creeping up the mountain and the wind blows over from the sea.
Hey, were brought into this land like tiny particles of sand, unsure of who were smarter than, or what were meant to be.
Oh the grains sift coarsely through the hour glass and collect like their victims in the bowl.
The ungodly force of change erodes all sense of earthly gains. While tending to the mundane will terrorize your soul.
And its no! Its no use thinking that youre wrong. The past is old and gone. Its best to move along and find your Avalon.
Well, I wish that I could tell you it was easy, just take the paved road right to paradise. But the
truth is my friend, the pain and suffering never ends. Make amends with medicine, amnesia, and lies.
The grains sift coarsely through the hour glass and they pound like boulders on the brain.
All those things you did for fun, never hurting anyone, careless shadows in the sun, just empty and lame.
And its no . . . its no use thinking that youre wrong. The past is old and gone. Its best to move
along and find your Avalon.
So now the day races from the twilight. How the fields are enveloped by the shade. And the story
that youll tell, inventory of your well, crack the shell and find the mortar silted and decayed.
And its no! Its no use thinking that youre wrong. The past is dead and gone. Its best to move
along and find your Avalon. Its best to hurry on and find your Avalon.