At The Third Stroke

I remember rainy days and running through the pavement's haze
Skipping over pools of rain
People thinking I'm insane

I remember sunshine nights and being lost in city sights
Gazing down the river Seine
Wondering where the boats have been

Then the circus returns to the town
With its icemen and sugar clowns
And the lions roar and they open the door
And the showman asks you to come in
He says, "It's alive." I can think tomorrow's
Day will give me happy games to play

Aeroplanes and city clouds sailing through the nighttime shroud
The flight path's misty arrow shows that somewhere
There's a way to go where all is not in memory's eye
I don't have to dream
I can fly

Then the circus returns to the town
With its icemen and sugar clowns
And the lions roar and they open the door
And the showman asks you to come in
It's all for free
It's all for free

Thinking back when I was six to snowmen, toys, and friendly sticks
Bonfire night and Christmas Eve
Kicking up the fallen leaves
Then a New Year's bell I hear
Its rings with muffled tones of fear
I turn back to my hopes and dreams
Somewhere there my promise seems to gleam

Then the circus returns to the town
With its icemen and sugar clowns
And the lions roar and they open the door
And the showman asks you to come in
And it's all there
And it's all there
And it's all there

At the third stroke, it will be 11:50 precisely