There is airnComing innThe smokenHas become thinnSo I nShut my eyesnI feel the pins and needlesnRushing up my backnThere are shooting stars in my eyesnnThere are flashes of colournAnd icy musicnThere are balloons and there are wingsnThe sun is in our living roomnAnd the moon is on the shelfnnThere was a bookcase nAnd a match sticknAnd a family of threenNow floating down the rivernWith mennIt is timenIt's timenIt's timenIt's timenIt's timenIt's timenIt's timenIt's time