There was a man that knew too much
With a panic attack mind but a chance to numb
His golden touch to ignore the will of time
Had me struck down, open to the fact
I was standing in a line with a broken occupation on my back

[Chorus]
Time is not a moment we're letting slip away
There's nothing left to say; it's changing every day
The way I'm thinking - in different shades of gray
It's not enough to say that this is my love

He had the anti-midas touch
Temporary state of mind
But a chance to die enhances growth
Now I'm trembling all the time
Stumble 'round, making faces on the scene
Scene what, what
Stumble 'round, make your faces on your own

[Chorus]

I'm not your mocking bird
That sings your cellar song
She got a paper run
You're compensated

Can we all gather round on the scene?
Can we all move around on our own?
Are ya a mover, shaker all alone?

[Chorus]
Time is not a moment we're letting slip away
There's nothing left to say but this is my love

I'm not your mocking bird
That sings your cellar song
She got a paper run to write your letters wrong

Writer : JOHNS
Copyright : Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC