---

Mix me a drink, my throat is dry.
Peel me an orange from the sky.
A twist of citrus in my mouth
from a volcanic sunset.
Quench my thurst without regret.
The last bit of day's light
bursts out.
Burning in the horizon
we can see unusually large birds.
They are rising.
Their last chance before the night
takes their site and they'll go unfed.
The darkness fills their hearts
with dread.
Soon the mammals will
take to the sky.
They will fly with arms
turned into wings.
They sing to find their way
we pray.
As we watch the firey end of
another's summer's day.
It's light's last hurah
until tomorrow.
It's light's last hurah
until tomorrow.
It's light's last hurah
until tomorrow.
Until tomorrow.
Until tomorrow.
Until tomorrow.
Until.

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