The water's turning muddy; the air is getting
wet.
The fire's growing hotter in the coals.
The ground is changing color, it's turning
crimson red,
But the wheel -- it's still spinning gold.
There's a ring for the defender, and a pair of
deuces wild;
And a triple play is in the wind.
But four is the number -- I've heard it said
before:
It's a perfect harmony.
Another piece of the puzzle, how I long for it
to fit;
You know, my whole life has been a maze.
Another piece of the puzzle, they don't ever
seem to fit;
Won't you tell me: Is this the way?
The Sun is the Father; the Moon is Mother dear,
And all the Planets, drifting far and wide.
I'm a child of fortune, dangling on the vine;
Won't you help me keep the time?
Pieces of a Puzzle (MP3)
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Pieces of a Puzzle is Copyright
Come Friday by Cuba, Stansill, Field. This was done about 1986.
