It’s that time again. br br The sun pales in the west. br What is there about the dusk br That lowers our songs to br We marvel at the fire in the western sky br Yet hear a soft chant of mourning in our souls. br br Who can explain that primal veil of sadness? br Could it be the passing of revealing light br Or guilt over dreams left un-chased? br Perhaps we fear Apollo’s chariot br Will be lost on the other side. br br The sun will greet the new day br And bathe us in all cleansing light br Chance and skill again will dance for us br And what passes will mock our expectations. br What bold psychic can unlock the codes of chaos? br br When in the sun’s great circling the dusk returns br To shroud our hearts with curious regrets, br We will take solace in the setting sun br The night will sort the chaos out br And give us needed synthesis. br br It’s that time again.