Turn of the Century by Yes

Lyrics: Realising a form out of stone, Set hands moving. Roan shaped his heart, Through his working hands. Worked to mold his passion into clay, Like the sun. In his room, his lady, She would dance and sing so completely. So be still, he now cries, I have time, oh let clay transform thee In the deep cold of night, Winter calls, he cries Don t deny me For his lady, deep her illness. Time has caught her, And will for all reasons ta