There’s a gentle fog in the morning
In it I see us dancing
I can feel us turning, burning babe
Like a calling from the sun
Like a falling into one
Like a pulling from above
Like it's something I’m gonna call
Like it's something I’m gonna call
Like it's something

She’ll hang on gently
Or come crashing down so terrorised
She’ll love so completely
Till there’s nothing left but these mortal cries

He’s gone
She’s gone
I’m gone
You’re gone
They’re gone
We’re gone
I’m gone
You’re gone
She’s gone
He’s gone
They’re gone
We’re gone
It’s gone, gone, gone, gone

Words and Music by Lionel Lodge
All Rights Reserved
C P Lionel Lodge 2001