Night after night, day after day The clock on the wall ticks the hours away What remains is the blink of an eye There's so much and yet so little to say So many memories that time blew away All they've left is a hole in the sky Is that what we are What we're all about The changing shape of a passing cloud On the shelf stands a picture of a man and his wife From a faraway world, in some far away life Now he hardly remembers her name Family and friends, most of them gone But the clock on the wall is still ticking on Like the words to an endless refrain Is that what we are What we're all about The changing shape of a passing cloud Is that what we are What we're all about The changing shape of a passing cloud