It's a tingle
sounds silly I know
it's the mingling
of satin and snow
it's a tautness
quick to grow
it's in evening's afterglow
it's impossible
it's impossible
it's impossible
to pin down
So give up dear
the lightness of life in the early morning is too fey a thing to be grasped
let it slip away
and
it
is
beau ti ful