Slipping slowly, passing by

Slipping slowly, passing by,

Burning in the crimson sky,

Born at dawn, each day must die.

Crashing in the endless beach,

What whispers from the waves must teach?

Perhaps the everlasting told,

The pain of never growing old?

Mine is not to understand,

The mystery or this foreign land,

For I am simply passing through,

A traveller lost, like I, are you.

And then the sun, upon may face,

Lights me an heavenly embrace,

And all my fears melt away,

For tomorrow, comes another day.