Sometime soon,
sometime soon the Earth will move again.

Soon, so very soon
the light will simply fade
lost in dreams of darkness and the phantom ghost parade

Soon, sometime soon
the stars will light the way
across the sky to morning of another sparkling day.

Clouds will fill the heavens and down will flow the rain
in rivers of renewal that flood the city drains

Soon, sometime soon
the Earth will move again

The weather's in the news again.

Whatever the reason, the cause, the old proverbs are losing meaning, reliability. As old as the hills, as old as death and, if we ever had such a thing, we've lost a ghost of memory, an ancient imprint that all this has happened before.....

Keep the buses running, the trains and planes on time, the wine pouring across the tables of the not so rich and famous and just hope that it never happens here - and if it does just assume that it happens to someone else, somewhere else.

But there is no-one else, nowhere else.

It couldn't happen here. Could it?

Swirling winds and rushing waters. Summer sun in winter and another icy August.

It couldn't happen here. Could it?

It did Before....

Can't you remember......?