How many would it take?
How late must it be?
Before you cross the line
And do you need to know
It is the end of time
To make it show
So count it down
Steps to the gate
The widening cracks
And shifting stones
Pieces of eight
What will it take?
Oh can't you see
The only way it can be
And that thin line
The one you know
Measuring time
Until the show
It gets you down
The creaking gate
Avoid the cracks
And skip the stones
Pieces of eight
We know it's late
But there's still time
To trace the line
And find the gate
To take us home
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem