The Night We Called It a Day Lyrics
| Song | The Night We Called It a Day |
| Artist | Carol Kidd |
| Album | The Night We Called It a Day |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| when the moon shines at noontime, and the sun blazes at midnight | |
| dark and light coincide, i stay inside and keep the lid tight | |
| catch sight of the morning that passes by through my window | |
| another child is born, another dies, and still the wind blows | |
| spin slow drawn into strong voice of reason | |
| standin’ in snow thinkin’ of summer, | |
| just longin' for another season | |
| belong in no particular region, but hear i stand | |
| just rocked another show, just can't remember where i am | |
| and my family’s far from here, but the stars are bright this evenin’ | |
| or this morning or this afternoon, just got here now i'm leavin’ | |
| and i sure remember tomorrow just as clear as i do yesterday | |
| never dance with the devil, cuz i can’t afford that hell to pay | |
| wanna blast through your speakers every time you press a “play” | |
| wanna fix your phonograph so we could set the record straight | |
| dear god i pray, just let me show this world a better way | |
| how you helped through your heart all the times i fell away | |
| i get to say these words and speak my peace to captive crowds | |
| not certain if it's day or night, but i know the time is now | |
| and if we ever lose the purpose as a prelude to the sound | |
| lets just call it a day, and burn my empire to the ground | |
| [listener] | |
| amazingly, the cask of amontillado cracks wide open to vibrate your bravado | |
| sewn up escape body bagger, like i'm the count of monte cristo | |
| world tour: me ill coffee shopping and we're coming to your bistro | |
| we show bright when it comes to your ability | |
| i'll be yelling out homonyms like i dwell in possibility | |
| we're gonna call it a day because i know you're feeling me | |
| listener, rapper, a potpourri of life | |
| all synonyms to cornucopia; i'm so glad you have a wife | |
| in this wolf-eat-salmon world you better grab swords and sell your knives or | |
| you'll get chopped up by needle when it spins over to my rhyme, yo | |
| rap music guys and self titled artists alike | |
| please think twice before you say your things on the microphone | |
| i might not be, but i take it seriously | |
| when you really listen to the words and you're not just hearing me | |
| day and night | |
| wrong or right | |
| spill our guts with every breath on the mike | |
| and hope you call it tight | |
| if it's blind, give it sight | |
| if it's dark, make it light | |
| some call it music | |
| [2x] | deepspace calls it life |
| [playdough] | |
| workin' it out, placin' my feet to concrete | |
| hittin' the street with a vengeance, stench is so sweet | |
| but bitter we consider every circle we pass | |
| probl'y the reason that i’m breezin’ through class so steadfast we push to find the bush that was burnin' | |
| stayin’ determined and yearnin' because the lessons we learnin' are life long | |
| it’s my song i place to erase and transpose | |
| all these average joes with weak flows | |
| who knows not the true an’ livin' rose who ascended | |
| blended with the beat; compete then apprehended | |
| today's feelin' all right – color of nights | |
| being blocked by the shock and the ray we playin’ right | |
| now i've gone a full day without some wackness heard | |
| the ones speakin' absurd are finally heeding my word | |
| and now i'm left with nothing else to say | |
| that’d be the night that i called it a day | |
| [sev statik] | |
| i'm gonna throw thoughts to a page | |
| let 'em fall where they please | |
| let 'em rise to the sky, rain down and form seas | |
| an ocean of possibilities to dwell in | |
| yellin' at the top of my lungs; convicted by stone tablets as a felon | |
| a nocturnal being of love since the dawn of time | |
| watch the sunrise in both my daughter's eyes | |
| permanent shine, find my reflection inside | |
| livin' to die, dyin' to live, with all glory given back to god | |
| [freddie bruno] | |
| it was the night that 24 turned into 12 | |
| had to dust my spiral off from the top of the shelf | |
| on a blank page using the utensil of potential | |
| i'm diggin' in my brain so i could rip the instrumental | |
| with 20 bars left, and i'm consistent from the intro | |
| lightin’ candle sticks as the rain hits my window | |
| need to focus in, take the topic and let it flow | |
| got 8 down for the count with 16 to go | |
| the writer's blocks are stepping stones | |
| toward the metronome | |
| erasing deadlines with headlines placed in my poem | |
| nocturnal with my journal, a wordplay professor | |
| the aggressor, resembling soda cans under pressure | |
| i'm shaken but not stirred; deterred from my train of think | |
| now i'm aligned; readjusted to infuse the ink | |
| i wanna handcuff the hands of time | |
| no grace period allotted for; here's the sunshine | |
| day and night | |
| wrong or right | |
| spill our guts with every breath on the mike | |
| and hope you call it tight | |
| if it's blind, give it sight | |
| if it's dark, make it light | |
| some call it music | |
| [2x] | deepspace calls it life |
| [sintaxtheterrific] | |
| bet i'm casting nets that dredge the deep blue ways of wet | |
| god's silhouette on watered palettes painted pink by suns that set | |
| burnt from a long days work, but feelin' fine | |
| tip its cap and pat the moon upon its back as day declines | |
| catch the light switch as you slip into the evening | |
| and curtsey to the sun as it dips below the ceiling | |
| feeling sorta satellite; like the wind beneath my wings | |
| walk a tightrope of gravity; keep lunar kites on orbit strings | |
| man on the moonlight like dream before my time | |
| like the moon reflects the sun; i make the black begin to shine | |
| like the moon rewinds the waters, makes the ocean recline | |
| i collapse your mind; i'm sintax the melancholy kind | |
| redefine the best, framed fresh in terms of holiness | |
| bless the mic device, 'cuz i get nice plus keep my conscience | |
| hence i'll split the tense; mince words like sentence fragments | |
| moondust or bust, cause i aint' in it for the cabbage | |
| the incandescent crescent spits its omnipresent flame | |
| but my fame would flicker out; my name sintax to wax and wane | |
| for the name above names, so glad that christ came | |
| the black burned bright the night we called it a day | |
| shadows step on the one unearthed in every tongue | |
| run underneath the cover of the night-time sun lungs broken and scraped; spoken on shattered breaks | |
| pierce the black hole soul with my faith as i take | |
| break minutes back from father time to coordinate seconds | |
| i surround the 11th hour with sound as my weapon | |
| feelin’ threatened coz they sweat the syndrome of the wicked | |
| heading for your auditory where the listener would stick it | |
| fix it with skill when it breaks from the construction | |
| crushing your framework and far surpassing your presumption | |
| sunrays buy your score; wind notes my surface sings | |
| grey matter meteors on “record” for elohim | |
| and when the sun sets some one lets the mic down | |
| we pipe down, unplug it and leave it tied down | |
| but not before we retire the pen | |
| knowin’ tomorrow we'll be back just to do it again | |
| shackled and scarred | |
| i still maintain my phrase on dark days | |
| a sullen world covered in pain | |
| so from dusk 'till dawn i represent his word | |
| deepspace 5: sent to serve | |
| we travel in the sands of the lost and we understand | |
| we battle with the possible chance we take the cross on your block | |
| in your speakers dues is paid | |
| we out for a change in the night we called it a day |
| when the moon shines at noontime, and the sun blazes at midnight | |
| dark and light coincide, i stay inside and keep the lid tight | |
| catch sight of the morning that passes by through my window | |
| another child is born, another dies, and still the wind blows | |
| spin slow drawn into strong voice of reason | |
| standin' in snow thinkin' of summer, | |
| just longin' for another season | |
| belong in no particular region, but hear i stand | |
| just rocked another show, just can' t remember where i am | |
| and my family' s far from here, but the stars are bright this evenin' | |
| or this morning or this afternoon, just got here now i' m leavin' | |
| and i sure remember tomorrow just as clear as i do yesterday | |
| never dance with the devil, cuz i can' t afford that hell to pay | |
| wanna blast through your speakers every time you press a " play" | |
| wanna fix your phonograph so we could set the record straight | |
| dear god i pray, just let me show this world a better way | |
| how you helped through your heart all the times i fell away | |
| i get to say these words and speak my peace to captive crowds | |
| not certain if it' s day or night, but i know the time is now | |
| and if we ever lose the purpose as a prelude to the sound | |
| lets just call it a day, and burn my empire to the ground | |
| listener | |
| amazingly, the cask of amontillado cracks wide open to vibrate your bravado | |
| sewn up escape body bagger, like i' m the count of monte cristo | |
| world tour: me ill coffee shopping and we' re coming to your bistro | |
| we show bright when it comes to your ability | |
| i' ll be yelling out homonyms like i dwell in possibility | |
| we' re gonna call it a day because i know you' re feeling me | |
| listener, rapper, a potpourri of life | |
| all synonyms to cornucopia i' m so glad you have a wife | |
| in this wolfeatsalmon world you better grab swords and sell your knives or | |
| you' ll get chopped up by needle when it spins over to my rhyme, yo | |
| rap music guys and self titled artists alike | |
| please think twice before you say your things on the microphone | |
| i might not be, but i take it seriously | |
| when you really listen to the words and you' re not just hearing me | |
| day and night | |
| wrong or right | |
| spill our guts with every breath on the mike | |
| and hope you call it tight | |
| if it' s blind, give it sight | |
| if it' s dark, make it light | |
| some call it music | |
| [2x] | deepspace calls it life |
| playdough | |
| workin' it out, placin' my feet to concrete | |
| hittin' the street with a vengeance, stench is so sweet | |
| but bitter we consider every circle we pass | |
| probl' y the reason that i' m breezin' through class so steadfast we push to find the bush that was burnin' | |
| stayin' determined and yearnin' because the lessons we learnin' are life long | |
| it' s my song i place to erase and transpose | |
| all these average joes with weak flows | |
| who knows not the true an' livin' rose who ascended | |
| blended with the beat compete then apprehended | |
| today' s feelin' all right color of nights | |
| being blocked by the shock and the ray we playin' right | |
| now i' ve gone a full day without some wackness heard | |
| the ones speakin' absurd are finally heeding my word | |
| and now i' m left with nothing else to say | |
| that' d be the night that i called it a day | |
| sev statik | |
| i' m gonna throw thoughts to a page | |
| let ' em fall where they please | |
| let ' em rise to the sky, rain down and form seas | |
| an ocean of possibilities to dwell in | |
| yellin' at the top of my lungs convicted by stone tablets as a felon | |
| a nocturnal being of love since the dawn of time | |
| watch the sunrise in both my daughter' s eyes | |
| permanent shine, find my reflection inside | |
| livin' to die, dyin' to live, with all glory given back to god | |
| freddie bruno | |
| it was the night that 24 turned into 12 | |
| had to dust my spiral off from the top of the shelf | |
| on a blank page using the utensil of potential | |
| i' m diggin' in my brain so i could rip the instrumental | |
| with 20 bars left, and i' m consistent from the intro | |
| lightin' candle sticks as the rain hits my window | |
| need to focus in, take the topic and let it flow | |
| got 8 down for the count with 16 to go | |
| the writer' s blocks are stepping stones | |
| toward the metronome | |
| erasing deadlines with headlines placed in my poem | |
| nocturnal with my journal, a wordplay professor | |
| the aggressor, resembling soda cans under pressure | |
| i' m shaken but not stirred deterred from my train of think | |
| now i' m aligned readjusted to infuse the ink | |
| i wanna handcuff the hands of time | |
| no grace period allotted for here' s the sunshine | |
| day and night | |
| wrong or right | |
| spill our guts with every breath on the mike | |
| and hope you call it tight | |
| if it' s blind, give it sight | |
| if it' s dark, make it light | |
| some call it music | |
| [2x] | deepspace calls it life |
| sintaxtheterrific | |
| bet i' m casting nets that dredge the deep blue ways of wet | |
| god' s silhouette on watered palettes painted pink by suns that set | |
| burnt from a long days work, but feelin' fine | |
| tip its cap and pat the moon upon its back as day declines | |
| catch the light switch as you slip into the evening | |
| and curtsey to the sun as it dips below the ceiling | |
| feeling sorta satellite like the wind beneath my wings | |
| walk a tightrope of gravity keep lunar kites on orbit strings | |
| man on the moonlight like dream before my time | |
| like the moon reflects the sun i make the black begin to shine | |
| like the moon rewinds the waters, makes the ocean recline | |
| i collapse your mind i' m sintax the melancholy kind | |
| redefine the best, framed fresh in terms of holiness | |
| bless the mic device, ' cuz i get nice plus keep my conscience | |
| hence i' ll split the tense mince words like sentence fragments | |
| moondust or bust, cause i aint' in it for the cabbage | |
| the incandescent crescent spits its omnipresent flame | |
| but my fame would flicker out my name sintax to wax and wane | |
| for the name above names, so glad that christ came | |
| the black burned bright the night we called it a day | |
| shadows step on the one unearthed in every tongue | |
| run underneath the cover of the nighttime sun lungs broken and scraped spoken on shattered breaks | |
| pierce the black hole soul with my faith as i take | |
| break minutes back from father time to coordinate seconds | |
| i surround the 11th hour with sound as my weapon | |
| feelin' threatened coz they sweat the syndrome of the wicked | |
| heading for your auditory where the listener would stick it | |
| fix it with skill when it breaks from the construction | |
| crushing your framework and far surpassing your presumption | |
| sunrays buy your score wind notes my surface sings | |
| grey matter meteors on " record" for elohim | |
| and when the sun sets some one lets the mic down | |
| we pipe down, unplug it and leave it tied down | |
| but not before we retire the pen | |
| knowin' tomorrow we' ll be back just to do it again | |
| shackled and scarred | |
| i still maintain my phrase on dark days | |
| a sullen world covered in pain | |
| so from dusk ' till dawn i represent his word | |
| deepspace 5: sent to serve | |
| we travel in the sands of the lost and we understand | |
| we battle with the possible chance we take the cross on your block | |
| in your speakers dues is paid | |
| we out for a change in the night we called it a day |
| when the moon shines at noontime, and the sun blazes at midnight | |
| dark and light coincide, i stay inside and keep the lid tight | |
| catch sight of the morning that passes by through my window | |
| another child is born, another dies, and still the wind blows | |
| spin slow drawn into strong voice of reason | |
| standin' in snow thinkin' of summer, | |
| just longin' for another season | |
| belong in no particular region, but hear i stand | |
| just rocked another show, just can' t remember where i am | |
| and my family' s far from here, but the stars are bright this evenin' | |
| or this morning or this afternoon, just got here now i' m leavin' | |
| and i sure remember tomorrow just as clear as i do yesterday | |
| never dance with the devil, cuz i can' t afford that hell to pay | |
| wanna blast through your speakers every time you press a " play" | |
| wanna fix your phonograph so we could set the record straight | |
| dear god i pray, just let me show this world a better way | |
| how you helped through your heart all the times i fell away | |
| i get to say these words and speak my peace to captive crowds | |
| not certain if it' s day or night, but i know the time is now | |
| and if we ever lose the purpose as a prelude to the sound | |
| lets just call it a day, and burn my empire to the ground | |
| listener | |
| amazingly, the cask of amontillado cracks wide open to vibrate your bravado | |
| sewn up escape body bagger, like i' m the count of monte cristo | |
| world tour: me ill coffee shopping and we' re coming to your bistro | |
| we show bright when it comes to your ability | |
| i' ll be yelling out homonyms like i dwell in possibility | |
| we' re gonna call it a day because i know you' re feeling me | |
| listener, rapper, a potpourri of life | |
| all synonyms to cornucopia i' m so glad you have a wife | |
| in this wolfeatsalmon world you better grab swords and sell your knives or | |
| you' ll get chopped up by needle when it spins over to my rhyme, yo | |
| rap music guys and self titled artists alike | |
| please think twice before you say your things on the microphone | |
| i might not be, but i take it seriously | |
| when you really listen to the words and you' re not just hearing me | |
| day and night | |
| wrong or right | |
| spill our guts with every breath on the mike | |
| and hope you call it tight | |
| if it' s blind, give it sight | |
| if it' s dark, make it light | |
| some call it music | |
| [2x] | deepspace calls it life |
| playdough | |
| workin' it out, placin' my feet to concrete | |
| hittin' the street with a vengeance, stench is so sweet | |
| but bitter we consider every circle we pass | |
| probl' y the reason that i' m breezin' through class so steadfast we push to find the bush that was burnin' | |
| stayin' determined and yearnin' because the lessons we learnin' are life long | |
| it' s my song i place to erase and transpose | |
| all these average joes with weak flows | |
| who knows not the true an' livin' rose who ascended | |
| blended with the beat compete then apprehended | |
| today' s feelin' all right color of nights | |
| being blocked by the shock and the ray we playin' right | |
| now i' ve gone a full day without some wackness heard | |
| the ones speakin' absurd are finally heeding my word | |
| and now i' m left with nothing else to say | |
| that' d be the night that i called it a day | |
| sev statik | |
| i' m gonna throw thoughts to a page | |
| let ' em fall where they please | |
| let ' em rise to the sky, rain down and form seas | |
| an ocean of possibilities to dwell in | |
| yellin' at the top of my lungs convicted by stone tablets as a felon | |
| a nocturnal being of love since the dawn of time | |
| watch the sunrise in both my daughter' s eyes | |
| permanent shine, find my reflection inside | |
| livin' to die, dyin' to live, with all glory given back to god | |
| freddie bruno | |
| it was the night that 24 turned into 12 | |
| had to dust my spiral off from the top of the shelf | |
| on a blank page using the utensil of potential | |
| i' m diggin' in my brain so i could rip the instrumental | |
| with 20 bars left, and i' m consistent from the intro | |
| lightin' candle sticks as the rain hits my window | |
| need to focus in, take the topic and let it flow | |
| got 8 down for the count with 16 to go | |
| the writer' s blocks are stepping stones | |
| toward the metronome | |
| erasing deadlines with headlines placed in my poem | |
| nocturnal with my journal, a wordplay professor | |
| the aggressor, resembling soda cans under pressure | |
| i' m shaken but not stirred deterred from my train of think | |
| now i' m aligned readjusted to infuse the ink | |
| i wanna handcuff the hands of time | |
| no grace period allotted for here' s the sunshine | |
| day and night | |
| wrong or right | |
| spill our guts with every breath on the mike | |
| and hope you call it tight | |
| if it' s blind, give it sight | |
| if it' s dark, make it light | |
| some call it music | |
| [2x] | deepspace calls it life |
| sintaxtheterrific | |
| bet i' m casting nets that dredge the deep blue ways of wet | |
| god' s silhouette on watered palettes painted pink by suns that set | |
| burnt from a long days work, but feelin' fine | |
| tip its cap and pat the moon upon its back as day declines | |
| catch the light switch as you slip into the evening | |
| and curtsey to the sun as it dips below the ceiling | |
| feeling sorta satellite like the wind beneath my wings | |
| walk a tightrope of gravity keep lunar kites on orbit strings | |
| man on the moonlight like dream before my time | |
| like the moon reflects the sun i make the black begin to shine | |
| like the moon rewinds the waters, makes the ocean recline | |
| i collapse your mind i' m sintax the melancholy kind | |
| redefine the best, framed fresh in terms of holiness | |
| bless the mic device, ' cuz i get nice plus keep my conscience | |
| hence i' ll split the tense mince words like sentence fragments | |
| moondust or bust, cause i aint' in it for the cabbage | |
| the incandescent crescent spits its omnipresent flame | |
| but my fame would flicker out my name sintax to wax and wane | |
| for the name above names, so glad that christ came | |
| the black burned bright the night we called it a day | |
| shadows step on the one unearthed in every tongue | |
| run underneath the cover of the nighttime sun lungs broken and scraped spoken on shattered breaks | |
| pierce the black hole soul with my faith as i take | |
| break minutes back from father time to coordinate seconds | |
| i surround the 11th hour with sound as my weapon | |
| feelin' threatened coz they sweat the syndrome of the wicked | |
| heading for your auditory where the listener would stick it | |
| fix it with skill when it breaks from the construction | |
| crushing your framework and far surpassing your presumption | |
| sunrays buy your score wind notes my surface sings | |
| grey matter meteors on " record" for elohim | |
| and when the sun sets some one lets the mic down | |
| we pipe down, unplug it and leave it tied down | |
| but not before we retire the pen | |
| knowin' tomorrow we' ll be back just to do it again | |
| shackled and scarred | |
| i still maintain my phrase on dark days | |
| a sullen world covered in pain | |
| so from dusk ' till dawn i represent his word | |
| deepspace 5: sent to serve | |
| we travel in the sands of the lost and we understand | |
| we battle with the possible chance we take the cross on your block | |
| in your speakers dues is paid | |
| we out for a change in the night we called it a day |
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