"Time On Our Side

A poet questioned, “Why?
Would God paint the sky—
So bright, so blue, but so far away?”
The painter answered, “Why?
Mere words make fools cry—
The poet smiled and said,
Ask me on a rainy day

Me, I think it’s strange—
The world spins, seasons change, and years go by.
It feels like I’m running out of time.
People come and go,
They check their watch, the hands will show
The time and day, but I already know:

Time is never really on my side.
That time is never really on my side.

A child asked, “Mother, why
Do people have to die?
Does someone from above come and steal their soul away?”
His mother said, “Don’t cry, all who live shall die.”
And she pulled him close, she said,
It's going to be ok
And then sent him on my way

Don’t you think it’s strange—
The world spins, and seasons change, and years go by.
It feels like we're running out of time.
Friends will come and go,
They’ll check their watch, the hands will show
The time of day, But they already know:Time is never really on our side.
That time is never really on our side.
Time is never really on our side.
There is only so much time,

©Eric Saitz"

This is the oldest melody I’ve written, along with the lyrics, created a very long time ago when I was just a child. On Tuesday, I woke up and rewrote the lyrics, preserving the feelings I had as a child but reflecting my perspective today. The mix isn’t completely finished yet, but I wanted to share it with my friends. 

Peace!~~

Eric