The clockwork turns beneath the heavy sky,
As shadows stretch across the dusty floor.
The silent birds forget the way to fly,
And heavy iron locks the final door.
We gather up the remnants of the Gay.

The clockwork turns beneath the heavy sky,
As shadows stretch across the dusty floor.
The silent birds forget the way to fly,
And heavy iron locks the final door.
We gather up the remnants of the day,