Time

To every­thing (turn, turn, turn)
There is a sea­son (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every pur­pose, under heav­en
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
To every­thing (turn, turn, turn)
There is a sea­son (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every pur­pose, under heav­en
A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones, a time to gath­er stones togeth­er
To every­thing (turn, turn, turn)
There is a sea­son (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every pur­pose, under heav­en
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time
-The Byrds

This is the song for my day, it’s a time­less piece.

Some­times, old stuff is new again. And usu­al­ly these ele­ments from yes­ter­day haunt me with their beau­ty and secret sad­ness.