| In the time that remains the stars will fade
|
| Doesn’t take what’s wrong and make it right
|
| It doesn’t change what’s come before
|
| A lot of people want to turn their heads
|
| And wave a flag and claim a moral fight
|
| When there’s nothing right about it
|
| One of the little lies of time
|
| Just because you’re after all the men
|
| Doesn’t take what’s wrong and make it right
|
| It doesn’t change what’s come before
|
| A lot of people want to clear their head
|
| Or beat a drum and hold your head up high
|
| When there’s nothing right about it
|
| One of the little lies of time
|
| A freighter goes to shore
|
| Puts a weighted line, the sun goes down
|
| And all this dirt, it turns to black
|
| A restless sleeper sticks his head outside
|
| And sees the light and feels it come inside
|
| But he doesn’t recognize
|
| It’s my kind of little lie and
|
| It takes hold in the middle of the night
|
| My kind of little lie and I know all the pretenders
|
| My kind of little lying time
|
| Lying time
|
| A lying time
|
| A lying time |