What are you going to do With the heaven in your hands Not a moment to rue As grain fields go to sands Gripping the moon can't make wax As all the moments are on the wane Praying paying missing tax Fouls the prospect of staying rain
In and out of contexts
What are you going to do With the heaven in your hands Not a moment to rue As grain fields go to sands Gripping the moon can't make wax As all the moments are on the wane Praying paying missing tax Fouls the prospect of staying rain