Passing Cloud

Night after night, day after day
The clock on the wall ticks the hours away
What remains is the blink of an eye

There's so much and yet so little to say
So many memories that time blew away
All they've left is a hole in the sky

Is that what we are
What we're all about
The changing shape of a passing cloud

On the shelf stands a picture of a man and his wife
From a faraway world, in some far away life
Now he hardly remembers her name

Family and friends, most of them gone
But the clock on the wall is still ticking on
Like the words to an endless refrain

Is that what we are
What we're all about
The changing shape of a passing cloud

Is that what we are
What we're all about
The changing shape of a passing cloud