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LIAM LYNCH
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Time's No Good
Under trees we go,
breaking moonlight through the leaves.
We can't see them grow,
guess we'll just have to believe.
'Cause they grow so slow
compared to our heartbeats,
but it's good to know
they'll be taller next we meet.
And so time goes.
But the fog hangs low
like old birthday balloons.
And the fog falls quiet
like our cold breaths, saying words.
So we're walking slow
through the chill that fills the moon,
through the night so silent,
time becomes our footsteps heard.
And so time goes.
On the ebb and flow,
tides licking at the beach.
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But the waves don't know
we're on our tiptoes, out of reach.
How the moon must like
its blue light on the sea.
But the rising tides
won't reach you and me.
And so time goes.
Time's no good,
it can't get anything to stay.
It tries every second,
every minute, every day.
Time's no good.
It's a memory machine,
'cause a moment's not a moment
'til it's already been seen.
Time's no good.
It can't get anything to last,
'cause the future is only
the past growing fast.
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