Morning Story-Jack Bruce

Running, jumping, pushing its way Mornings nighttime blends into day Can't find curtains to shut it away We were alone in the hills of the night Now the neon dawn lets in the light And the milkman that nobody knows Leaves bottles of tears At the house full of laughter Nobody ever hears O the grass is burned black By the ships coming back from the stars, golden stars Seas turned to steam When we boiled the dream of tomorrow, tomorrow When it gets light Some of them always stay She's dressed in white Till the smoke turns her grey Falling, stumbling, feeling its way Mornings nighttime moves into day Can't find warmth to keep it away Used to be alone on the waves of cloud Now the flotsam dawn brings in the crowd And the angel who sits in her car Full of desire But the hoses who came from the town Put out her fire O the seas have run dry And the sun's one good eye is too blind to see Sky has gone bad From the good times we had burning bright, such good times When it gets light Some of them always stay She's dressed in white Till the smoke turns her grey