these old wheels

silence is golden some may say, some may say, well i say silence is an aimless time to kill, it's a restless feeling pounding on my brain both night and day, and these old wheels of mine spin louder as it builds, yes the sky would surely fall if my dear eardrum did fail, to beat a single time, in time or out, some may make it out all right and some may have never known, but these old wheels spin far too loud, far too loud, for i love to hear a from the morning bird choir, and the sounds of coffee boiling on the pot, how i love to hear i love you in a dry morning tone, and just assume that if i can't these wheels would stop, yes happy is the day i lay my poor head down, with neither trial nor trouble to compete, with the chirp of summer crickets nor a tree frog's croak, and these old wheels slow down enough so that i may sleep, silence is golden some may say, some may say, i say silence is an aimless time to kill, it's a restless feeling pounding on my brain both night and day, and these old wheels of mine spin louder as it builds