I think I smell the sunset Think I feel the close of day Clean shaven correspondents Are all crowded at the gate Smell the oil from their torches Their voices growing more irate Sheperd's staves are crooked Leading every crooked way All the sheep lock their doors Yeah, they're pulling down their shades The faithful looking in their mirrors The faithful growing old and gray But I look at you Your eyes are clear and bright I see your face It's an amazing sight Your glory Lord Is still a burning light The light that all our faithless hands Could never dim Think I smell the sunset Think I smell the death of day People laughing at a funeral People dancing at a wake All the seasons blend together This bird's losing feathers everyday But I look at you Your eyes are clear and bright I see your face It's an amazing sight Your glory Lord Is still a burning light The light that all our faithless hands Could never dim And everybody's tired and scared And begging unbelief But you have yet to break a sweat You're not afraid You're not afraid I think I smell the sunset Think I feel the close of day Sheperd's staves are crooked Leading every crooked way People laughing at a funeral People dancing at a wake
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Copy to Clipboard: I think I smell the sunset Think I feel the close of day Clean shaven correspondents Are all crowded at the gate Smell the oil from their torches Their voices growing more irate Sheperd's staves are crooked Leading every crooked way All the sheep lock their doors Yeah, they're pulling down their shades The faithful looking in their mirrors The faithful growing old and gray But I look at you Your eyes are clear and bright I see your face It's an amazing sight Your glory Lord Is still a burning light The light that all our faithless hands Could never dim Think I smell the sunset Think I smell the death of day People laughing at a funeral People dancing at a wake All the seasons blend together This bird's losing feathers everyday But I look at you Your eyes are clear and bright I see your face It's an amazing sight Your glory Lord Is still a burning light The light that all our faithless hands Could never dim And everybody's tired and scared And begging unbelief But you have yet to break a sweat You're not afraid You're not afraid I think I smell the sunset Think I feel the close of day Sheperd's staves are crooked Leading every crooked way People laughing at a funeral People dancing at a wake
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