It was the time, when nothing was right,
Time, when nothing was wrong;
When ballerinas fly in the wind —
This time is now.
And it’s written in the dark ways.
Written on the white halls,
Written in the cracks of the sky,
And it says…
It was awhile since the baby was born,
Awhile, since the story was told,
Awhile — and then it happens again;
And it happens now;
And I can see it in the dark ways,
And I can see it on the flyovers,
I can see it in the whites of your eyes;
And it spells out:
Annie Of The Nightingales.
And she goes…