Isn't Life Strange Poem by Paul Reed

"Isn't life strange
A turn of the page…"
From ‘Isn't Life Strange' by the Moody Blues,1972

As ice creams drip onto tables and tarmac
The high-vaulted sun in the trees
Turning vanilla the melting black
The summer passing by on the breeze;

Cool my heart into little pieces
For each happy day, there is two sad
Wrap it around with your soft fleeces
For being alive, make me glad;

For isn't life strange?
We think we know it all
A turn of the page
And then we just fall.