Dusk
Wilsen
So I'm often told the dusk, it clears the way somehow
Light between the leaves is casting this town green
I'm on the fence
I'm on the fence, looking for some hope for us
Now the day is done, the dusk descends
There's nothing finer than the draw of summer's spell
The cypress trees are swaying in the drunken wind
Your looks are kind
These are the times, I cannot refuse them
Maybe there's no harm in trying
Myriad of hope is coming soon
Dusk is rolling in
Dusk is rolling in
Dusk is rolling in
Dusk is rolling in
It rolls
It rolls
It rolls
It rolls
Dusk is rolling in
Dusk is rolling in
Dusk is rolling in
Dusk is rolling in
It rolls
It rolls
It rolls
It rolls
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